i must write on some of the funny incidents that fall into my lap ever so often. this time en route to India. so here i am, fetching my little isle seat...and waiting for the poor soul who must occupy the seat next to mine. i pity him already. i tend to use the neighbor's shoulder as a personal favor. hence, i also know i would invariably have him/her blotted with "little drops of cloud" from a passionate sleep... also known as "Drool". well, people are born with strengths, weaknesses, traumas, phobias, two heads, psychotic mothers... i however, am born with a mouth that opens during sleep. (no. no. no. that doesnt mean i dont open my mouth at other times). But to my dismay I realize that I am not the only one who will drool that night. In a moment this 23 year old, sweatpants wearing, uncombed, unshaven, unkempt, dishevelled, my-socks-dont-match geek comes and sits next to me..."please dont mind if my head falls on your shoulder"! aaa...HULLO! what makes you think i wont mind? a friendly reminder-- Dont Even Think About It! In reply however, I give a wry smile and say, "I have the same problem". His radder immediately catches the warning. And he politely shifts a little to the other side of his seat. worked. yess! why that was easy! And because everything has good and bad sides to it, it dawns on me that there goes MY head rest! 'Nice job bimbo' i curse myself.
So in the middle of the night, while i am trying to sleep erect, there is a cankerous outburst of man-cries. the man in question is occupying the seat two rows behind me. he is shouting at another man in Punjabi dialect. I dont understand a word of what he says, which is amazing...because people usually intersperses English words while talking in any other language. however, he is speaking in pure, unbridled, uncontaminated, perfectly distilled Punjabi! That made MY understanding of the situation extremely impure. this "gentleman"... though rite now far from credibility... is loudly questioning the gentility of this other man...who looks somewhat baffled at what seems to me, accusations against him. maybe even he doesnt understand what he is being charged with...and stands there like Forrest Gump on sedatives. the air hostesses, busboys are all gathered around us. But the man who is doing all the shouting is relentless... he is a man of words alrite! I am still staring at them all... trying to...I donno... lip read...face read? It appears to me as if I am the only one not following what's going on. math-class-syndrome-all over again. Suddenly one of the pilots arrive. Why does the pilot have to be here? Who is driving? Is this like a national threat? Profound questions wizz pass my head. Anyway, so they are all trying to extricate the two men away from each other. more and more people are overcrowding this area. the feud is turning out to be a mutiny. And then suddenly the angry man attacks...he plunges forward...and gives a firm blow at him! and within two feet of each other... he misses!!! what are the chances! he is even more angry now. the cabin crew is pushing the other man away from the site of action. what is funny is that this man is making no defence. He is like, 'bring it on'! ok, so the angry guy now throws a shoe at him--and in its flight--it bangs on MY head, ricochets, and falls in the lap of the white American veteran sitting just behind me. Now it helps to clarify that this was flight Air India, and the Indians always take a few precautionary notches of care for the white folks. So as soon as the shoe landed on this white man's lap, the air hostesses rose to the occasion, leaping forward, like Michael Jordan on an underpaid mission, scooped the shoe out from the white man's lap--and was "colonially" apologetic! Nobody even noticed that the shoe made contact with MY head!
Anyway, after long the fury subsides, people take their seats again. my sleep, with its drool have all dried up. and now for the final part, the formerly angry man is asleep... but snorting like an erupting volcano (his lips make an Angelina Jolie-like protrusion, making extensive vibrations and shooting out lava-like saliva) say on a 4th of July evening! like a nuclear weapon being tested amidst flurrying crackers..! In obvious fright of the demonic snore, all the babies in the flight start crying aloud at precisely the same instant...as if the furious man with the fatal snore is their choir-master. A remake of The Sound and the Fury, i tell ya
