First published on September 5, 2012, I remember this time being a sad time for me. I remember how I had cried about not having a direction. I am still directionless, but in the these last 7 some years I have made some major strides. Some professional publications, several popular news paper articles, a bit of a name as a public intellectual and papers in two areas that I really wanted to work towards.
I have a created a bit of a community even though, I still want to move. But I have some real friends, although the concept that without a family --seroiusly friends are a weak link to this world. Friendship, to me, is the strongest relationship, but family is stronger. It just is so. Not just to me, but just is so. You cannot replace family and relationships that you can have with adult siblings. That is why single children often have a hard time in life. No one's fault. Sometime you cannot help it. But it is a hard life for them--the only children. They may cling to people who are not good for them, or may make not very many good choices--- for their sense of the world is limited. And unless they are loners, they will forever rely on friends, who may or may not return loyalties. And if 'only children' are awake to the loneliness of the world, they know what this paragraph just talked about. Many of them become awake to it later in life. And often end up having a few children. I have a friend who knew she wanted at least two, since she is an only child.
So, when this blog was written, was a difficult time, and yet this post will tell you that I had learnt to appreciate simple joys and pleasure and learnt to notice good wherever I could. I remember this day like yesterday. Their voices still echo in my ears, and I clearly remember the expressions on their faces. And incidentally, i found a handwritten note to myself where I had jotted down details of this event, since it happened on a plane. I must have written it either on the plane or when I arrived on the other end.
Wonder where these people are today? If I saw them today, I would still raise a toast to them--for the memory those hours on the plane and that trip, I still remember vividly!!
Another thing that has happened with incessant travel is that instead of seats by the window, I ask for seats in the aisle, so I do not need to bother others during the flight and so that I can take the needed break from the seat when I wish, without disturbing others. Seeing the sights through the window, which used to be a priority isn't anymore.
It was then when the following incident happened.
I am going to try and write all of it--from memory and notes in my journal---but there is something about the moment that cannot be captured--even on a page, in the most beautiful words.
Once the moment is gone, everything else is a mere re-creation--copying and pasting. And probably looses a generation or two with each re-production. A joke dropped, a detail missed, a few words jumbled. The spontaneity is gone.
And then there is the simplicity of the moment. When your love smiled at you without knowing he/she was smiling, when a toddler said something profound but with an innocence, without an intention that left the parent gaping in awe, when a vendor decided to give you a discount for no reason except that you say hello with a smile, when a bus driver stopped that extra minute so you could get on the bus....all those great moments that, if frozen, could be turned into novels. That 'moment' is hard to capture.
But then we have the words, the re-creation, in the hope of 'grasping the moment.'
It started with me asking for a cup of water. 'hot water'.
I pressed the button on my chair, and felt like the leader of some starship enterprirse when the young flight attendant appeared on my side.
And then I waited. But nothing happened for the next 15 minutes. My throat was dry from Swedish winter, so I walked to the back of the airplane.
'Oh, I forgot it', said the young man tapping his forehead.
"Don't worry, dont worry' I said trying to make him feel comfortable and relieve his guilt.
'Oh, he is not worried.' said the funny one with a straight face. I gave a blank look.
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was joking.
As I headed towards the toilet he said, 'Do you have a voucher?"
The he extended his hand towards me, "Let me see your voucher?"
'A voucher?" I was confused. May be now they have these new rules that I know nothing of. So I looked blankly at him.
' And if you do not have one, let me print you one.' He turned towards the kitchen area.
I was still a little confused so I just waved and headed for my business.
When I stepped out he told me, with a very serious face, that I owed him 2 euros.
By this time I was getting in on the joke. His co-workers were unruffled, probably because they were used to his ways. Which made it all seem realistic. One had to have a combination of sense of humor and an understanding of practical jokes to both understand and appreciate the situation.
(I am proud to say that I do both) ;))
I wanted to stand there, relax, enjoy the conversation and more such scenarios. So, I just stood there.
One of the greatest joys of traveling alone, short term or long term in life, that you never have to explain your behavior to others.
He had to leave to take care of others.
I stood alone with African-British guy, admiring his british accent. Which is so different from listening to African American men. The man was very friendly and started chatting right away.
'If you stayed here with this group, you'll hear things you cannot imagine.'
I nodded. 'But that is good --he makes us laugh, and I could have used it.
Then the men standing there went on tell me that they'd been up since 2 am, and had a back to back run between Stockholm and London, a two hour flight. And that these jokes and other ways of making light of the situation kept them going.
'Its not just good for you but us too, you know.' He said.
'Yeah, but he does it with a striaght face.' I said, unable to control my laughter.
I know. He nodded.
'And with all the charging he is talking about, the way England is right now people might believe him.!!'
The African British guy laughed. "I know.'
'So you live in Sweden? he asked. We had already talked about me having lived in a few countries.
'Yes',
'How's the country?
'Gorgeous, stunning, sort of Utopia ....unbelievable , I've never felt this safe anywhere else.'
'You think you will stay here forever?
'Not sure!'
'Utopia and not sure?
'well, you know, Utopia can be like heaven, perfect, and a little boring.'
'And the US?
'Oh the US that is another story. Its like loving someone who is not right for you, this attractive-looking person in a mohawk, sleeveless leather jacket, chains, tattoos and piercings, someone without a steady income. Those your parents told you to keep away from. And you look at him, and your heart melts, and you feel a familiar pang, as if you have known him a while.'
'I understand' he said solemnly. As if he knew what i was talking about. And then he chuckled.
The funny one, let me call him P, (for P. G. Woodhouse ;)) came back.
A woman walked up and said she wanted to use the toilet....
'Maam do you have a voucher' said P one again. She did not know he was talking to her, but when she looked up, she sort of ignored and continued to her destination,
'Maam, wait if you do not have a voucher let me print you one. Its 2 euros' And he turned to his side as if turning towards a printer.
The woman smiled and stepped into the toilet cabin.
'Well, maam, listen if you go in without a voucher the door will lock itself and you will not be able to step out.' The woman smiled, blushed and pulled the toilet door shut from inside.
P, with his straight face turned to others standing in the que. 'See, if you fly with us often, I suggest you get an identity card. An ID would be good for frequent flyers. Its two euros.'
'An ID card and voucher both 2, Euros? I thought that would be more' I said.
"Well, we are generous.' he tilted his head to the side. Still no indication that this was a joke or that he was being funny.
A man came looking for water.
'Sir, we are going to be bringing trays out soon.'
"No, here' he waved a plastic glass at the attendant. He did not want to waste a plastic glass, he wanted reuse the one he had been given a few minutes ago.
'Ah, you must be Swedish,' I said, He smiled in agreement. 'That's so Swedish, so conscientious'. I said aloud.
And I looked at the flight attendants standing next to me smiled, and pointed 'That's a swede for you.'
The African-British nodded back.
I asked the young one, how many years have you been working as an attendant?
"six years' he said.
'You look a little young to have done this for so many years'
P said, with a straight face again, ''she did not say that about me...'
Another with unruly hair was walking up towards the gang I was talking to.
'Sir, Sir, let me get you a brush' said P.
I could not stop laughing because the unruly hair was artificial hair attached to his cap. It was meant to be a 'fun hat'. Luckily the man did not hear it.
At some point P said, 'here let me show you my straight jacket, the mental health people carry me in. When I leave the plane I have to slip into that straight jacket.'
P's face was serious as ever and I was laughing so hard that my intestines were complaining for having them exercise.
Before I knew, the heaviness, the stress, the life questions had all vanished into nothingness. How could I not be grateful?
This post is dedicated to all those who consider making people laugh their job, regardless of what they get paid for.
I have a created a bit of a community even though, I still want to move. But I have some real friends, although the concept that without a family --seroiusly friends are a weak link to this world. Friendship, to me, is the strongest relationship, but family is stronger. It just is so. Not just to me, but just is so. You cannot replace family and relationships that you can have with adult siblings. That is why single children often have a hard time in life. No one's fault. Sometime you cannot help it. But it is a hard life for them--the only children. They may cling to people who are not good for them, or may make not very many good choices--- for their sense of the world is limited. And unless they are loners, they will forever rely on friends, who may or may not return loyalties. And if 'only children' are awake to the loneliness of the world, they know what this paragraph just talked about. Many of them become awake to it later in life. And often end up having a few children. I have a friend who knew she wanted at least two, since she is an only child.
So, when this blog was written, was a difficult time, and yet this post will tell you that I had learnt to appreciate simple joys and pleasure and learnt to notice good wherever I could. I remember this day like yesterday. Their voices still echo in my ears, and I clearly remember the expressions on their faces. And incidentally, i found a handwritten note to myself where I had jotted down details of this event, since it happened on a plane. I must have written it either on the plane or when I arrived on the other end.
Wonder where these people are today? If I saw them today, I would still raise a toast to them--for the memory those hours on the plane and that trip, I still remember vividly!!
Being a flight attendant can be a taxing job. Hats off to those who make it seem easy, and consider bringing smiles to the passengers a part of their job. P, is the first one from the right. March, 2012.
 |
| Their jokes were silly but with every giggle my insides got loose. By the time I got off the plane, I felt my stomach relax, as one's body does after a good session of yoga. P, is the first one from the right. March 2012. |
I was headed to India for a conference. Luckily this one coincided with Holi, the festival of colors. Something I had not been in India for nearly two decades. I was tired, and had much to do. All of february I had been sick. So I carried that fatigue with me.
I remember dozing off in the bus to Arlanda Airport. All the time my mind was rushing. You know when you are asleep but the list of things to do is scrolling at the back of your consciousness.
Sometime I wonder why do I have that, when I have much less responsibilities in terms of 'everyday life' than many other people. I think it is because I have had the wrong gauge. I cannot and should not gauge myself according to the world.
The gauge for those who live on the edges must be different, as are our lives. It is not about car pooling, mortgages, looking for better schools, or watching trees grow. In its nomadic ways it is much wider. Not how many gadgets you can have--but instead--how may you use the same pan for various activities.
A frying pan, deep enough to be a Karahi (Indian frying skillet with two handles on the opposite ends), and can be used as tava (the flat pan used to cook chapatis). That way it reduces on the clutter in the kitchen and the amount of things that must be carried with every move.
Another thing that has happened with incessant travel is that instead of seats by the window, I ask for seats in the aisle, so I do not need to bother others during the flight and so that I can take the needed break from the seat when I wish, without disturbing others. Seeing the sights through the window, which used to be a priority isn't anymore.
So, I was exhausted from trying to place where my life was. I was at the edge and making massive decisions mentally. Of what I am going to keep and what to let go. What to say good bye to and what to welcome.
All of it in the form of 'attitudes and modes of thinking.'
It was then when the following incident happened.
I am going to try and write all of it--from memory and notes in my journal---but there is something about the moment that cannot be captured--even on a page, in the most beautiful words.
Once the moment is gone, everything else is a mere re-creation--copying and pasting. And probably looses a generation or two with each re-production. A joke dropped, a detail missed, a few words jumbled. The spontaneity is gone.
And then there is the simplicity of the moment. When your love smiled at you without knowing he/she was smiling, when a toddler said something profound but with an innocence, without an intention that left the parent gaping in awe, when a vendor decided to give you a discount for no reason except that you say hello with a smile, when a bus driver stopped that extra minute so you could get on the bus....all those great moments that, if frozen, could be turned into novels. That 'moment' is hard to capture.
But then we have the words, the re-creation, in the hope of 'grasping the moment.'
It started with me asking for a cup of water. 'hot water'.
I pressed the button on my chair, and felt like the leader of some starship enterprirse when the young flight attendant appeared on my side.
And then I waited. But nothing happened for the next 15 minutes. My throat was dry from Swedish winter, so I walked to the back of the airplane.
'Oh, I forgot it', said the young man tapping his forehead.
"Don't worry, dont worry' I said trying to make him feel comfortable and relieve his guilt.
'Oh, he is not worried.' said the funny one with a straight face. I gave a blank look.
It took me a few seconds to realize that he was joking.
As I headed towards the toilet he said, 'Do you have a voucher?"
The he extended his hand towards me, "Let me see your voucher?"
'A voucher?" I was confused. May be now they have these new rules that I know nothing of. So I looked blankly at him.
' And if you do not have one, let me print you one.' He turned towards the kitchen area.
I was still a little confused so I just waved and headed for my business.
When I stepped out he told me, with a very serious face, that I owed him 2 euros.
By this time I was getting in on the joke. His co-workers were unruffled, probably because they were used to his ways. Which made it all seem realistic. One had to have a combination of sense of humor and an understanding of practical jokes to both understand and appreciate the situation.
(I am proud to say that I do both) ;))
I wanted to stand there, relax, enjoy the conversation and more such scenarios. So, I just stood there.
One of the greatest joys of traveling alone, short term or long term in life, that you never have to explain your behavior to others.
He had to leave to take care of others.
I stood alone with African-British guy, admiring his british accent. Which is so different from listening to African American men. The man was very friendly and started chatting right away.
'If you stayed here with this group, you'll hear things you cannot imagine.'
I nodded. 'But that is good --he makes us laugh, and I could have used it.
Then the men standing there went on tell me that they'd been up since 2 am, and had a back to back run between Stockholm and London, a two hour flight. And that these jokes and other ways of making light of the situation kept them going.
'Its not just good for you but us too, you know.' He said.
'Yeah, but he does it with a striaght face.' I said, unable to control my laughter.
I know. He nodded.
'And with all the charging he is talking about, the way England is right now people might believe him.!!'
The African British guy laughed. "I know.'
'So you live in Sweden? he asked. We had already talked about me having lived in a few countries.
'Yes',
'How's the country?
'Gorgeous, stunning, sort of Utopia ....unbelievable , I've never felt this safe anywhere else.'
'You think you will stay here forever?
'Not sure!'
'Utopia and not sure?
'well, you know, Utopia can be like heaven, perfect, and a little boring.'
'And the US?
'Oh the US that is another story. Its like loving someone who is not right for you, this attractive-looking person in a mohawk, sleeveless leather jacket, chains, tattoos and piercings, someone without a steady income. Those your parents told you to keep away from. And you look at him, and your heart melts, and you feel a familiar pang, as if you have known him a while.'
'I understand' he said solemnly. As if he knew what i was talking about. And then he chuckled.
The funny one, let me call him P, (for P. G. Woodhouse ;)) came back.
A woman walked up and said she wanted to use the toilet....
'Maam do you have a voucher' said P one again. She did not know he was talking to her, but when she looked up, she sort of ignored and continued to her destination,
'Maam, wait if you do not have a voucher let me print you one. Its 2 euros' And he turned to his side as if turning towards a printer.
The woman smiled and stepped into the toilet cabin.
'Well, maam, listen if you go in without a voucher the door will lock itself and you will not be able to step out.' The woman smiled, blushed and pulled the toilet door shut from inside.
P, with his straight face turned to others standing in the que. 'See, if you fly with us often, I suggest you get an identity card. An ID would be good for frequent flyers. Its two euros.'
'An ID card and voucher both 2, Euros? I thought that would be more' I said.
"Well, we are generous.' he tilted his head to the side. Still no indication that this was a joke or that he was being funny.
A man came looking for water.
'Sir, we are going to be bringing trays out soon.'
"No, here' he waved a plastic glass at the attendant. He did not want to waste a plastic glass, he wanted reuse the one he had been given a few minutes ago.
'Ah, you must be Swedish,' I said, He smiled in agreement. 'That's so Swedish, so conscientious'. I said aloud.
And I looked at the flight attendants standing next to me smiled, and pointed 'That's a swede for you.'
The African-British nodded back.
I asked the young one, how many years have you been working as an attendant?
"six years' he said.
'You look a little young to have done this for so many years'
P said, with a straight face again, ''she did not say that about me...'
Another with unruly hair was walking up towards the gang I was talking to.
'Sir, Sir, let me get you a brush' said P.
I could not stop laughing because the unruly hair was artificial hair attached to his cap. It was meant to be a 'fun hat'. Luckily the man did not hear it.
At some point P said, 'here let me show you my straight jacket, the mental health people carry me in. When I leave the plane I have to slip into that straight jacket.'
P's face was serious as ever and I was laughing so hard that my intestines were complaining for having them exercise.
Before I knew, the heaviness, the stress, the life questions had all vanished into nothingness. How could I not be grateful?
It would be awkward to stay there very long. When I told them, that they had made my day by making me laugh P said, 'Well, then you get to clean the plane after we land, nothing comes for free.'
I laughed hard. Bowed and said, 'Gladly Sir, if that means you will make many others laugh like this...it would be an honor'
And meant it.
This post is dedicated to all those who consider making people laugh their job, regardless of what they get paid for.
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