Showing posts with label Holiday Series. Show all posts

Part 1 is here

Part 2 is here

Teaser is here

Part 3 is here

Freedom from the colonial rule has been procured but it needs to be preserved. So does money. And so I was in our ex-ruler's territory. The land where people's shirts and lips are stiff and the ilk of tailors designers viz. Prada, Gucci, AX, YSL, Louis Vuitton divide and rule harmoniously and make something other than Gagra Cholis and Lehengas filled with chamkees .

L/reva reaches Heathrow (London Airport):

With the stomach staging a mutiny again the need of the hour was to guzzle the elixir of life, namely coffee, down the oesophagus. Only - The credit was found lacking. But nothing kept the indomitable mallu cinderella-y spirit of l/reva from her evil twin sisters - ricory and chicory.
Being a loyal S/Bucks member has its perks. Like you get a free drink on your Bday. My best birthday gift ever - Size Grande.

I ambled along to the nearest park-your-bottom facility to rest. And I heard two raccoons women screeching talking in the most high pitched yet impeccable Queen's English:

W#1: Do you know what happened to my hair dresser?
(Craning my neck to see the woman (W#1) I noticed that the only other thing thinner than her hairline would either be Mandira Bedi's noodle straps or Kate Moss's legs. A poodle was resting near the woman's feet. The pooch's luxurious hairdo prodded moi to wonder if the hairdresser was the pooch's or the lady's)
W#2: Oh No!!! Good heavens. Do tell me
(sipping a whole mug of english tea whose color I don't even want to explain here. Let's say some suspicious yellow that may have warranted the attention of some men like Moraji Desai)
W#1: Oh!! she left her boyfriend (M#1) for a new man (M#2). She eventually got married.
W#2: So she showed her b/f the middle finger so she could give her finger to another? for the ring
W#1: Not quite. She married someone else (M#3).
W#2: Wow!! That's a woman who had a plethora of options.
W#1: I'll say! Apparently her doting boyfriend (M#1) found her cheating on him with his brother (M#2). And their mother wanted nothing of the woman (hairdresser). So she (hairdresser) went ahead and married her childhood sweetheart (M#3) who apparently did not have any qualms despite knowing her flings.
W#2: And what happened of the men (M# 1 & 2)?
W#1: The older brother(M#1) was married with a family of his own even while seeing my hairdresser so he asked his wife to take him back and the younger brother (M#2) married my hairdresser's sister.

@#$%^&&&$#$#$

W#2 and her tea went cold and all the color drained from them.

Another impeccable voice speaking the Queen's English commanded L/reva's attention that had unfaithfully strayed to the Harrods, Boots and duty free goodies!

"You may now board the fight flight bound to Chennai"

A Tata Indica ad said “We love to carry our world with us" So does Lafemmereva. L/reva, her duty free purchases and her entourage of baggage made a beeline to the flight which was pregnant (Emphasis: Flight was pregnant!!) and hurting with the painful labor of harboring wailing babies, soiled diapers and multi lingual songs blaring from Ipod which evoked the diversity vibes of India.

I burrowed my way through to my seat like a refugee avoiding missile misses from overstuffed cabin baggage which were threatening to fall off like those slimy creatures from the walls in movies like Mummy, Harry Potter et al.

In my biased and compromising opinion of a non-beneficiary, reservation is a very unfair advantage to the beneficiary. This is not how I viewed it when I was a beneficiary of one third of the perks in the not-so-distant past w.r.t college admissions. When one is not a beneficiary one will equate the whole grape-tasting-sour experience to watching KKRs play in IPL. And when one is, one propagates it with as much verve, enthusiasm and gusto as one does the Fake IPL Blog.

Without further digression, the flight junta was "reserving" extra (read co-passenger’s luggage space) spaces for cabin luggage above the seated area. They told every unsuspecting traveler that came to rightfully secure their bags in their “allocated” space that it was meant for their aged parent’s/young child’s “saamanam” (Tamil for things), thus slyly making anyone that doesn’t comply seem as pariah-ic as someone that refuses to offer his/her seat to any woman with-a-large-tummy in a bus by giving her the benefit of the doubt of being pregnant. BTW that is by far the only advantage I see of a woman having a challenging waistline. Pregnant or not, the fruit of labor is atleast a free seat. So, after all it is not always a man’s world.

I politely asked my co-passenger to move his luggage from my “allocated” space when he retorted with affected complaisance that his “aged” mother’s coat needed a resting place in case she felt cold.
Like the air hostess would come and open the windows of the plane when in mid air for some ventilation! Bah!

Me? I always look to corroborate claims with evidence. I looked to see a pretty young 20 something of a wife seated next to him. I did not sight a woman beyond her twenties in 3 rows of seats before and after mine. Needless to say there was no mother. This wasn’t the time to curse myself for not having premature grey hair to pass off for a senior or wish that the emergency oxygen masks were non existent under the seats of stone aged men and their stoned looking wives with neither grey hair nor integrity nor civility such as these two.

Any rebuttal to such an ill-formed and fallacious plea from the stone age man would mark my death from the killer looks of every other genuine “senior” on board. This wasn’t a time for facts to be corrected or name-calling or hair-pulling with stone age man or his stoned looking wife.

So I did what every self respecting mallu woman who stands up for her rights would do. I put my cabin baggage in the space meant for the passenger in front and consoled the enraged wooly spirit of the Calvin Klein coat in my hand which went under my seat. There! That’s a non violent, cooperative, neighborly way of sorting out things. When in deep shit pass the buck.

As I was prepared to squat for what would be my last leg of journey I was overpowered by a brilliant aroma that tickles one's pheromones and puts every 365X24X7 deodorant's claim-to-fame to shame -
Sweat - The human juice that is every athlete's envy and deodorant/sportswear company's pride and permeates through every unchartered crevice of the learned society.

Coming soon......

Part 4 - Homecoming series#4 - In-Flight entertainment
Part 5 - Homecoming series#5 - Lafemmereva in the wonderland of Lungis, Appams and
Chechis
Part 6 - Homecoming series#6 – Season Finale - City of Destiny, Downing Street, Uncle Sam.

Bah!! I haven't started a party and all.

Since polls are the order of the day in India I shall also pander to my audience's fancy by offering them with one:

What pisses you off incurs your wrath more?

Option 1: Staring a vacation series and not taking it to closure?

Option 2: Writing an excuse for a post such as this to apologise for it?

I will not judge your orientation you based on your choice above.

Lafemmereva pleads guilty of clocking 12 hrs everyday doing what, don't ask! and sincerely vows to once in for all blog about the remainder of her vacation series, no later than the end of this week, to explicate herself from the heinous crime of not entertaining her readership.
Bah, Lafemmereva is feeling compunctious and all. Compunctious is not to be understood as being punctual about commas.

But in the meantime for those that don't have a clue what I am talking about please fall prey to this third rate tactic that we (bloggers) use to ensure our older babbles posts are trashed read.

So the homework for this day is to read the following:

Part 1 : Homecoming Series #1 - Fasten your seat belts

Part 2 : Homecoming Series #2 - Wheels in motion, Mission Half accomplished!

Part 3: Coming soon.....

By the blogger, for the blogger, of the blogger. Totally. No! Seriously not contesting elections.

Related Posts:
Homecoming Series #1 - Fasten your seat belts
Homecoming Series #2 - Wheels in motion, Mission Half accomplished!

This is my real story. All characters are definitely alive and kicking.

You are not the first to read this story. D.Rishi had the privilege of the first read today evening. After reading he said "It was poetic justice for what I did to you".

Circa 1988 Thursday 11:59 am- My name was B.Reva. I was in UKG - B section. I wore green shirt flaps. I was very short, fat and resembled a mud roller, faintly, when I walked.

It was recess time. I was drinking the Bournvita that the domestic help brought to school everyday. Kids were playing in the hot sun in the playground. The Bournvita unleashed the animal in me. We ran to the playground - My tummy and I.

From nowhere a boy pelted a stone at my tummy. The last words I heard were a kid's voice saying "Short, stout, looser " My tummy and I doubled in pain. The perpetrator was D.Rishi. Dog Rishi! The other kids jeered, booed and called me a wuss before the hot sun closed in on me.

I went home crying. Mom inquired. I narrated the woeful tale. She asked me to watch Camouflage Animal watch - a Discovery Channel video. In retrospect I think I learnt my first valuable lesson in life that day - How an animal camouflages and waits at it's prey's usual watering hole.

Circa 1988 Friday 11:59 am

Same setting - Help has brought the drink . This time, Boost. Secret of my energy. His back is turned to me. I make timid steps. D. Rishi is having a sandwich in the shades of the mangrove in the distance. I crouch towards him stealthily. I pick up a stone and hurl it at him. Stone's trajectory makes a parabolic motion and he turns his head just in time to see it coming at him, full throttle, with the velocity of Soviet WW rocket. 4 of his incisors were history that day. They were permanent teeth.

Mother cheered from the pavement nearby. The domestic help whistled. After all they were the architects of the victory. Mother picked the weapon. Domestic help delivered it to me, with Boost.

The secret of my victory, Our Victory - Boost.

Circa 2008 Tuesday 6:37 pm XYZ Airport.

My name is B.Reva. I am in zyx Company. I wear Manolo Blahnik.

I was leafing through a magazine. A man sat next to me. He occupied two seats. Reflex action - I checked him out. I saw a flash of white. I leaned to take a closer look. His incisors were whiter than the rest of the teeth. He was short and stout. He was yakking on phone. I heard my school's name . He was on a roll. So was his tummy. He hung up. I asked his name.

I asked if he remembered B.Reva. He held his breath. He complimented that I was not how he remembered me or how he thought I would turn out to be. Shy came. I blushed a bit. A dog owner passed by. My Train of thoughts - Dog. Rishi. Dog Rishi. Boost. Animal. Camouflage. Prey. Mother. D/Help. Pavement. Cheer. Victory.

We hugged customarily and promised to "Poke" each other on Facebook.

Circa 2008 Tuesday 6:57 pm XYZ Airport

Last boarding call for me. His flight was a couple of hours after mine. I called my mother trying to balance a piece of paper in one hand and the phone in the other. I said a few words. Mother cheered. She said I had given myself my best birthday present ever. It was my birthday, that day. I was born at 6:57 PM. Talk about timing.

D.Rishi missed his flight. His boarding pass, a piece of paper needed to board a flight, was missing. Security issues. They refused to print him a new one unless he cleared security again. He waited 2 more hours before they could get him a new one for the next flight.

Later on that night he thought felt a tug when he hugged me. He thought it was his tummy coming in our way. Not my hand reaching for the paper which I held in my hand while telling Mother what I had done and trashed in a dumpster before boarding.

I need to go now and "Poke" him on Facebook.

He says we are now officially even.

Moral of the story - Mummy knows best . So stop sucking your thumb :P !!!

Part 1 of this series is here.
Okay, next time I should fly first class and never book an aisle seat. Like every 5 minutes I had to lift my legs up and hold it that way to make way for the kid in the window seat and the girl in the middle seat. Like I was in labour and the baby was going to come out any moment or something!! Several such exercises and 2 plates of cutlets later I was bored. Boredom, after all, knows no season right? Soon ...

Girl in Middle Seat (GIMS) : Hi, sorry to bother you everytime I need to head out.
Me: Oh, Not a problem! (I didn't want to risk keeping you away from
the restroom! I can't even open the windows!!)
GIMS : I hate this food, Its really bad (Parallely wiping out the food
plate!) So bad, So bad (Requests another plate and finishes that
too!!). I just hate flying.

If at that moment Angelina Jolie or Madonna had seen her they would have been rest assured she was an overgrown starving kid from malawi or some such nation suffering from oedema(water retention which causes swollen limbs) and adopted her. Me thinks next time, she should take the submarine. The sea lions will have a good meal atleast!!!

I go back to the Sophie Kinsella that I was reading and suddenly feel a tap on my hand. It's the kid in the window seat who looks like Harry Potter trapped in Calvin's Body. Let's call him Calvin Kumar.

Calvin: I am scared.
Me : (So am I! I mean what if GIMS throws up all the food she has had, maybe we
would all drown in mid air and it would rain cutlets on earth !!!Pretending not to be
scared and not looking from the book in hand) Why?
Calvin: There is a plane next to ours and its making a loud noise. I think its going to hit us.
Me : (WTF, Yes, I can hear it too. No! I am scared, Captain, Make a lane change!!! Don't
speed) I'm sure its just a mechanical glitch. Dont worry!

After some moments of peace and quietude. A loud roar like a tuning fork of infinite amplitude that was held captive by Stephen hawking in a physics lab was just let loose and is roaring and running out of the physics lab singing "Jai Ho" , "Jai Ho".

I tried to reach for my first Lifeline. As I was about to call the flight attendant I accidentally held the hand of GIMS. And the sound stopped. I let go of her hand and then the roar started.

GIMS was the roaring tuning fork. GIMS's snore was the "other" plane that Calvin heard.

Sheepishly Calvin and I go off to sleep. And then I had them, nightmares. Visions of me landing at the Chennai Airport.

Nightmare sequence - I land at the Chennai Airport. A hot wind blows across my face. There is a huge gathering. Probable to meet me . I sweat profusely. I have no makeup. No shades even to hide those tired eyes. A sudden lightness descends on my being. I am officially broke. Zilch. Nothing. I also realise that the crowd is there not for me but to see the Slumdog millionaire shooting. I could hear Anil Kapoor asking Jamal.....
AK: " And for the question that will win you 50,000 rupees What did Reva and Raju (Satyam) have in
common? "
Jamaal: "Nothing".
AK : "Are you sure?"

AK : Apple MAC ji please lock the answer...And that is the correct answer!!!!!!

I was suddenly jolted by another loud roar. No, we were really taxying in London. It was a nightmare after all. Phew!! I hadn't even reached London, let alone Chennai. I still had hope. Desperate times will call for desperate measures. Half the ordeal was over. The last leg of the journey remained. With all these thoughts filling my head I stepped on the London Ground. In all the events that had filled the day through all the time zones there was another small event that went unnoticed.

I had also completed a quarter of a century on Planet earth. I was 25. It was October 18th, 2008. Happy birthday me! :)

The remaning journey to be continued in upcoming posts.....Stay tuned! I will be back after a commercial break.
Ad: Pigeons dance to Masakalli song and say in chorus " We make distances shorter. Have message , will deliver."

End of 2008, Almost. I had officially dated two equally harsh summers and winters. Home was becoming a distant memory and my hand ached to ring my home's calling bell. I had had enough of calling cards. 2 years ago I had left my homeland crossing seven seas, to live the American dream and more often than not it was harsh reality that had awakened me.

On the day of my flight I woke up in a friend's place elated and delirious in equal measures at the prospect of finally going home. It was my birth month and I was flying out on my birthday, year of 2008 to my home, sweet home.

Like the Tata Indica advertisement that proudly claimed "We carry our world with us" I had in my entourage a token of gift for every special person back home. Something that didn't go well with the airline that was flying me, They probably thought less was the new more. So, very valuable items were offloaded ( Ferrero Rocher, Godiva chocolates, Yes!! That airline should be sued but I must say they have very handsome flight attendants and VERY tasty cutlets!!) on a very considerate friend who had come to see me off!

Several security checks and beeps later I eagerly boarded my flight to be told "Welcome aboard , You have no seat!!!!!" #%$&*%@#$%^ (The flight was apparently overbooked and I had to be on standby until a no-show of any of the passengers guaranteed my seat in the flight!)

All the color drained from my face. If I were to be rescheduled on a different flight I would have no cutlets.

Last boarding call for Flight# xyx. Scene cut to me waiting at the boarding gate - My stomach staging a mutiny I reach out to my wallet to wet my throat with coffee from Caribou when reality struck on me like lightning threatening to leave a scar like the one on Mikhail Gorbachev's head.

I have my first "Aha" Moment ".AM# 1 - I had left my money and my card in a hurry with my "considerate" friend who had come to give me a ride. All I had was Washington facing me from a green back which said 10$. 400Rs. 7 Euros. The cost of 2 movie tickets and a popcorn, The cost of a hair cut in any India Metro's swanky salon. The cost of 3 cappuccinos. That's all the dough I had 10$ for 36hrs- with which I could buy 3 cappuccinos.

All I needed was a little credit.

Then I heard those words I had been waiting for "You may now board the flight". My pennilessness soon forgotten in the inviting aroma of the cutlets I made my way to my seat , said a little prayer, for the pressurised metal tube that I was making my way into would take me as close to God than I have ever been, in just a few minutes.

5,4,3,2,1 ........Yipeee...I was airborne. A quick text to thank the friend for the ride and a quicker glance at the cutlet trays brought home the reality. Mama, I was coming home!!!!......

Part 2 is here

Related Posts:
Homecoming Series #2 - Wheels in motion, Mission Half accomplished!