Travel Tales - Chaotic T3, protests and other short stories

This isn’t exactly about a trip, but a collection of tales from a trip. 

Let’s start with T3, the swanky new Airport Terminal in New Delhi, a replacement for the old International Terminal. One of the reasons why I booked my return trip from Delhi on an Air India flight was its departure from the T3. I was almost excited like a kid when Bhavana dropped me at the airport, I was excited to just go in and see the huge hand mudras (something I saw in the newspapers). But I needed a print for my ticket first and that turned out to be an exercise in itself; there was a tickets counter but no one there. Much later a man came and blamed the merger of the two airlines due to which now he had to take print-outs of the tickets for Air India passengers. There were many very upset Air India customers around me, now there was an upset employee as well. 

So I was inside and happy to see the new airport, except that the hand mudras were still not seen. I had enough time, but after the ticket experience a little less will to explore the space as a designer. Passing the security check was a task in itself, the domestic terminal is still not functional and so we had to use the International Departure with the very white and pious looking Haj pilgrims. I could see many Kashmiri looking old couples, looking very distraught with everything. I was carrying back my childhood coin collection and somehow the security personnel weren’t too pleased with that. It took me a while to get cleared there and move on. 

The flight was late, but I was in for some high-voltage drama. But before that, I escaped a near heart attack when I thought my ex was sitting a few seats away in the waiting lounge. It took me a good fifteen minutes to figure out that it was not her but someone else who stared at me simple because I look weird. The real story of the evening, of course, had much more drama and action but less probability of heart failure. It’s a heart-warming story of stranded passengers stuck for hours at the airport and their fight for justice. Most waited with patience (surprising), while Air India canceled one flight after another without any obvious reason or justification (not surprising at all). Finally the patience was worn out and protests started. The notable slogans included ‘Air India Hai Hai’, ‘Air India Murdabad’ and ‘Humari flight wapas do’!

The protests were led by some fiery Gujarati women, one of whom was in fact a lawyer, while the men gave their helping hand by providing the chorus. But somehow it worked and for the first time Air India staff even came and almost got assaulted by some of the more frustrated passengers. I was waiting for some real assault and some breaking of glass (one of the passengers did suggest that, but the huge panels looked rather formidable) and expensive airport equipment, but none of that happened. My India TV instincts were at an all time high and my rarely used phone camera was hungry for more action. Both had to live with disappointment when the flight was finally announced (not on the speakers, but verbally) about four hours after its scheduled departure time.

I was in for a pleasant surprise when we landed at the new International terminal of the Ahmedabad Airport. It looked good and almost as interesting as the New Delhi airport, in fact much better than I ever expected. However, no autos are available and the pre-paid taxi counter was closed when we landed.

The final tale belongs to Sevakbhai, the auto-wallah who got me back home. He has been in the business for 20 years and now has four houses, one of which is worth forty lakhs. At 48 years, he is still unmarried and often sleeps in the night in the auto or wherever he finds space. For him a lack of wife is a boon, a freedom to roam around late nights and do anything he wants. Interestingly before autos he tasted success in the business of boot-legging as well, but he being a true Gandhian never tried a drop himself.