Shatabdi vs Air Asia

Recently I got to travel from Chennai to Bangalore by the Shatabdi express and as the train moved north-westwards, I was able to see the sun set behind the sunflower fields from the large, clean window. They gave us a nice meal and the seats were plush and comfortable. The TV showed episodes from ‘Just for Laughs’ and a Charlie Chaplin movie – things that don’t need one to listen or understand the local language. Why this was very clever was highlighted on that day especially because everyone else on the coach was from South Korea. The guy sitting next to me was quite expressive about his holiday in Bangalore and Chennai. And I mentioned Gangnam style to him when he said he was from South Korea, much to his annoyance.

And then I travelled from Bangalore to Bali via Kuala Lumpur by Air Asia. I couldn’t help but compare the experience of the Shatabdi vs Air Asia. The frustration started even before we could collect our boarding passes. We had to pay extra for checking in our baggage. And that was the first time I was hearing that shit in an International flight. In the Shatabdi, there was no limit on how much baggage you could carry. You could even do the entire shifting of your house from Chennai to Bangalore J

The biggest issue of all was when we were flying – we were given the last row in the plane and as if being forced to hear the airhostess’ gossip wasn’t enough, we had to pay exorbitant amounts of money to get meals, the only positive thing about which was the fact that it was hot. It was then I started understanding how difficult the rest of my trip was going to be because there was only one vegetarian meal available. Dammit… The Shatabdi was so much better in terms of food. At least they didn’t charge me as much as Air Asia and didn’t brag about their “flight merchandise” in books and journals.

I mean, seriously, why the fuck would I shell out my hard-earned money to buy t-shirts and watches with “Air Asia” printed on it and advertise for this shitty shitty airline? If anything, they should give the shirts to me and pay me (quite a huge amount) to wear it. Bah :-\

It was the worst four and a half hours I had spent on a flight and I just wanted to pull my hair out and scream like a mad woman or at least yell the choicest of swear words (I could do that in 4 languages) at the flight attendants to let off the pent up frustrations. I want to ask questions like why don’t you play something on the TV? Why don’t you include the cost of food in the ticket price itself? After making us pay so much money, why do you charge us extra for check-in baggage handling?

If you are a major airline in South East Asia, how does it feel having your facilities being compared to that of a premium train in India?

Am I A Rebel?

Happy New Year!!! :-)

It has been so long since I wrote something here. The last year has seen me go from the happiest person on earth to a sad and pathetic little soul that’s trapped in a job that seems keen on sucking the life energy out of me. The only writing I have done in the past year are long emails to my friend about me and my surroundings. I wish I could publish them some day.

Anyway, all that aside, I was thinking yesterday about how there is a rebel inside each one of us. Some accept it; but most live in denial.

For example, I love cooking. I enjoy cooking. I find it therapeutic; I think it is a great stress-buster to listen to and sing along with music while cooking. I like making food that looks colourful with fresh ingredients that are great to look at and taste even better. I like the way the aroma of tempered spices spread and fill the house. I forget all my problems and tensions in the sound of music and the pressure cooker’s whistles and the motor sound of the mixie. It satisfies all my senses. You get it, right?

So everyone by now thinks my husband is a lucky man, right? Wrong. I don’t cook very often these days. I restrict my cooking to making dosa/idly and simple chutney or easy-to-make mixed vegetable rice. I don’t spend a long time in the kitchen; I don’t put on music. I don’t enjoy the process. I do it more out of duty than out of love.

And that is simply because I am EXPECTED to do it. I don’t know if it makes any sense to any of you, but I want to cook because I enjoy it, not because I MUST. It is expected out of me, as a wife, to cook for my husband. But then the rebel wakes up and says, “Hey, you must not do it because they expect you to. You are not anybody’s slave.” And out goes all the goodness that I had housed inside me all these years. The “nee enna solradhu, naan enna kekkaradhu” (Who are you to say and why the hell should I listen?) attitude is something I have not been able to shake off since I was 5 years old. And I don’t seem to regret it that much either.

Cooking is a simple example. There are other things that I have stopped doing (or stopped enjoying the activity) just because somebody wants me to. That my job certainly belongs to that category is no secret. And I am not the only one feeling that way about one’s job. But we still do it because we have put on the dog costume and so we bark.

I want to be able to give in to others’ expectations and not feel rebellious at every opportunity. I want to live a normal life without having the urge to put up a fight at every slight possibility. Because frankly, I am tired of it. I am tired of having to fight back against every single thing expected out of me even though I’d have done it by myself anyway.

What do you think? Is it just me or is it normal to be rebellious? Or is it just that the degree of rebelliousness varies with each person? What are you like?

Mr.Stinking

Not all of us are the same. And thank God for that! Thank God, not all of us are creepy idiots who have the IQ of a cabbage.

I will abort the child if I come to know it is a girl.

Imagine that from a well-educated (a professional degree holder from a decent college), IT professional who I happened to work with. The nerve he had to tell me that, without the slightest inkling of sensitivity or respect for the life of a child! All I wanted to do at that moment was to just punch him in the face and break a tooth or two in that mouth of his that uttered those stinking words.

But fortunately for him, it was within the office premises and I was in no mood to get fired for physically assaulting a colleague. Believe me, I am physically and mentally capable of killing that mosquito (oh, have I given out too much about the identity of the person already?)

I mustered up all my patience and asked him, “What if your father had thought the same way? You wouldn’t have had a sister who you love so much today.”

You’d think that would have reached the non-existent brain of his or at least strike an emotional chord with him. He coolly turned to me and told, “Sandhya, I am talking about getting my wife to get it aborted; not you.”

I don’t use expletives (at least not in public forums), but that fucking asshole actually said those words to me!

He continued, “Where I come from it happens all the time. Hospitals there help the would-be parents determine the sex of the unborn baby and they get the “problem fixed” too.”

What the hell is wrong with this country? If it happens as often as he says it does, what are the police doing there? Is our law just something to laugh about after breaking it? Well, I know most people break the law, but I thought we had grown out of hatred towards the female child, at least in our so-called educated urban youth.

That the guy is not even married yet is another problem. But God help the poor girl that agrees to marry him. Oh wait, maybe where he comes from, the girl’s opinion is not sought while “fixing” her marriage with Mr.Creepy Creeperson with a mind narrower than a strand of his hair.

I personally know so many couples yearning for a baby in their lives; and then there are people like this one that makes me wonder why God created these infinitely stupid beings.

Should I just go and report this to the police? Will there be any action? You know, like checking if there are hospitals that do this?