Excess Baggage

“Sir, I would be very obliged if you could stop drinking coffee for a minute.”

What!? I almost got out of my wonderful Seattle’s finest coffee induced reverie. “Eh?”, I managed a fine retort back.

“Sir, this is the branch manager’s office and I would request you very much if you can avoid food and beverage consumption here”

Ten bucks to guess where I’m at. Yep. Bull’s eye, Sir. I’m back in India and I’m loving it! Trust us to twirl this wonderful language around like a chakli and bring out the very best of it - class or crass. Its just been a month for me back home and I can’t express my happiness for crying out loud. New job. New place (first time for me in Bengaluru) and new rush of adrenaline. As I excitedly stood in the airline check-in counter line, little did I know that my old nemesis was coming back to hit me.

I vaguely remember an incident that happened way back in my college. In one of the Parent-Prof meetings (Yes, I went to one of those colleges where they have this awesome stuff), one of my lesser favourite Profs commented to my bemused mom,  “He’s a fairly harmless chap. Manages to get work done but I won’t really hire him to check in airline tickets, you know. You’re much better off leveraging services of this desk right here. Haha!”,rattling the tiffin boxes he had confiscated from students caught making a private picnic prior to allocated lunch hour, with a loud guffaw. He was referring to an unfortunate incident where I checked in 150 students going to a study tour without adding bags. Although, I could wash my hands away from the financial loss, I could see that my Principal was really pissed about the cancellation of his planned Sawantwadi vacation when he paid for all 150 (x2: we Punekars believe in cashing in our right!) of them out of his own pocket when the students firmly refused to cough up. So yes, airline check ins. Not really great memories. And don’t even get me started about the one where, in rush I entered the birth date of my uncle as 20 Oct 2012. (instead of, um, 20th Oct 1962) And the uncomfortable questions he had to endure that the check-in counter. Poor fellow hadn’t even shaved for a week, which made the matters even worse, I think. So yeah. There I am. At the check in queue. Bags weighed twice and added online. Feeling smug, I looked at the excess baggage passengers forced to excavate their treasures in all sundry and having a shouting match with their folks while doing so. Nah, this time I was prepared.

As I put down my bag on the scale, imagine my shock, when the gate lady said “That will be 1000 rupees, Sir.”. You remember that scene in Mohenjodaro when Hrithik Roshan sees the croc under water? (Speaking of which, I was researching more on the lingo those folks employed, until the old fellow started blurting out Hindi all of the sudden. It seemed very vaguely similar to Dothraki. Wait! Is it possible-? Anyway, that’s for another blog. Next year. :P) I was incredulous. No, Freaking.Way.

S: “Ma’am, I have weighed this myself. On an electronic scale. Also I came from the US. I’m used to weighing bags so much I can work here for you guys when your scale breaks down. Could you please check again?”

M: “This is the way it is, Sir.”

S:  “One more time, please”

Someone rep from the peanut gallery —— "Oye American Hero. Itna time lagaana hai toh side men nikal”

Resigning myself to fate, I joined those poor souls who I had been so mockingly looking at all this time. Karma, I tell you! As soon as I opened my bag, bang! There it was - Sweets from my nice grandma, who had packed enough sweets to fund Alok Nath’s next movie. Choicest collection of Kadak Boondi laddoos, karanjis and chivdas. I managed to shove the lighter things in my backpack, which was already groaning from my travels and all that was left was kadak boondi.
Two roads to take -
 1. Eat them all
 2.Pay for the extra weight.

Challenge Accepted. I opened the box and started going about my business. I offered the first one to a balding uncle nearby who was sweating profusely. He politely declined. Next, I went to one of the bag organising passengers like me -a lady on the verge of shouting something real loud when I caught her just before her vocal cords declared strike. Oh man.. If looks could kill. Next guy in the queue asked me if I had Gulaab Jamuns instead. Finally, after several disapproving stares, mutterings and suspicious guards I found my man. He too was traveling to Bangalore, and guess what we hailed from the same part of Pune. After chit chatting for a while enquiring about what happened to that tea shop near that tree and cussing everyone from the local newspaper boy to the government (while going at it with the laddoos) he couldn’t keep up anymore.

“This plane has just one toilet man…Low cost hai..JFYI”

Fair point.

Thinking thus, I agreed to meet a fine balance of eating now and doing so later. Although the bag was still overweight, I could no longer risk eating more laddoos, fearing for myself and those around me.

M: “500 Rupees Sir”

Voila. Like Rajnikant taking out his gun, I took out my credit card.

M: “This doesn’t work, Sir. It shows not allowed”

S: “ What! Its Gold Delta Airlines AMEX card! its got $10,000 limit. What are you saying!?” My reputation was at stake in front of an already hostile crowd. 

M: “Foreign cards not accepted”

@$urs@!!

S: “Have my watch instead. 500 bucks. Bargain.”

M: “Not funny, Sir.”

After literally taking out every penny that I had on me (including the ones I had especially saved to buy chewing gum) and borrowing 10 bucks from a nearby porter (while promising to Venmo him the amount later of course. I’m not sure whether he has Venmo. Or whether Venmo works here at all.. Does it? If not, I’ll use Xoom. :P) I trudged my way to the Security gate amid nasty glares and menacing jaws. The flight itself was uneventful, unless you count the toddler next to me (why am I always blessed with crying babies and snoring men around all the time?? Why!) spilling coffee on his Dad, who in turn spilled something else on the steward. Super funny, but situational. Unfortunately the steward and the dad didn’t echo the same sentiment when I laughed! The kid was a little more magnanimous, though! :) So after tense several hours since leaving my home in the morning, I finally landed in Bengaluru at 1 pm the afternoon.

Mom: “How was your flight?”

S: “Not bad. Some check in issues, but overall ok”

Mom: “ Don’t tell me. Was it your bags again-“

S: “I’ll call you later mom. Bags arriving on the carousel!”

Bags. These bags have truly made my travel memorable for all these years. Not always good, but memories all the same!