#upInTheAir

The Turbulence Overreaction

I am at the Mumbai airport, waiting for a flight. I’ve just realized that I have lost yet another pair of sunglasses. Typically, I am not this careless but fact remains that I’ve lost a pair. I need to work on my brain and ensure that the muscle doesn’t atrophy. Need to pick a new hobby or something. May be get back to making a memory palace?

Apart from this, the other thing that’s fresh on my head this super crazy turbulence yesterday. The plane was in free fall for a few nano-seconds and it was scary like a bitch. In all the flights that I have taken, this was probably the scariest of them all (there was one where masks had dropped from the ceiling but I dont recall those). Thing is, I was not really afraid (I knew at the back of my head that this shall pass) but I was worried that all the things that I’ve wanted to do (primarily #book2, a billion dollars and an attempt at the Everest), what happens to those?

Of course I came out unharmed — statistically air travel is the safest mode of transportation — and I can go back to working on things that I’ve wanted to work on. But the flight was scary to the extent that since the flight, I’ve read a lot of articles about turbulence and air pockets.

Apart from rant about my balls that shrunk like raisins, the flight did make me realize something. That life’s unpredictable. You better live each moment up to the fullest potential. And that means while you plan for the future and all that, you better ensure that each moment that you are alive is worth the opportunity. Ought to stop doing things you don’t want to do.

Which brings me to the existential question. Why do I exist? While I love the concept of doing my own thing, truth be told, I am still a slave to a comfortable salary, thanks to largesse of this dude. If not for him, I would probably be scrambling to make ends meet. And I am amongst the luckiest people to have the unconditional patronage of someone with means. And I ought to make the most of it. And not get lazy or complacent. Like this turbulent flight, each incident reinforces the belief that I need to do more with life. Much more than what I am doing right now.

Come to think of it, if I could change a few things, what would those be?

For starters, I need to get more work out. I ned to ship more. In whatever shape or design or format. Could be a blogpost, a book, a project, a startup, a brand. Something that comes out fast. Something that inspires others. More importantly, something that inspires me! Must create things that inspire me. And what could those be? I have no clue!

I have done this exercise a million times, if not more times. Each time I come back with two answers. A, I don’t know what I want in / from life. B, if I go by signs, what I am doing right now, is what I ought to be doing!

So, all I need to do is, bid my time and wait for the right opportunity to come my way. It’s a matter of time when things fall in place and I will have a life of abundance. Abundant time, money and energy to do all the million things I want to do.

The other way to do this is that I go all-in with whatever little I have. That means I gather all my money (sell all the stock I have, liquidate the tiny FD that I have and take back the money I have invested in C4E) and chase a large dream. I will either end up super rich and would have made an impact and die a satisfied old man. Or I will be a pauper with no money to my name and will die a man who’d have to work hard to make ends meet. In either case, when I die, I hopefully wont have any regrets.

Thing is, I am 34. Will be 35 in less than a quarter of the year. And at the age of 35, while people like Zuck are working towards becoming the presidents and all that, here I am, talking about my existential dread. Now, I can take solace in the fact that Col Sanders was 143 years old when he started KFC and Sam Walton was 832 years old when he did Walmart. But I know that I have lost the damned rat race. Instead of making a difference to the world, lives of people, I am ranting about things that no one even cares about!

I mean, why go far to Facebook and Zuckerberg and all that. I am at the airport and there is this Spa, O2. Right outside, I see a blind man, dressed up in uniform of O2, talking to himself and being happy for no reason. Compared to him, I am a loser at so many levels. Everyone else is a winner! O2, for giving employment to people with alternate skills. The blind man, for accepting that he’s been dealt a raw hand and being happy about things. The friends around the man who are humoring him. And above all, the fact that despite so many people who need opportunities, fate brought him in touch with O2. Can I not do something similar? Where I help people have lost on the Ovarian Lottery and make some money in the process?

And why is money important? It enables you to buy happiness. Case in point? Last weekend along with 15 other people that I care for (yes 15), I went on this holiday where we stayed at a super expensive hotel and had everything taken care of! All of it was enabled by the fact that we had access to money that we were ok spending. Agreed that people find happiness in small things and can live without going to fancy hotels or clean beaches or serviced rooms or great food. I have been on that side myself. But now that I have little extra cash to be able to afford a better lifestyle, I can safely say that the happiness derived from the ability to buy the best the world has to offer, is unparalleled.

Of course to be able to travel, you often have to take a flight.

Aur, udaan hai to turbulence hai.
Turbulence hai to fategi.
Fategi to yaad aaega, ki life main karna kya hai.
Yaad aaega to kuch karoge.
Lekin kya?

The Aviation Abnormality

Funny thing happened. I must have taken some ~~300~~ 200 flights in my life, including 11 in this year alone – thanks to my job as an event manager. And I have never been scared. Even when I took my first flight when I was at MDI.

But for some reason I was scared of this one (I am actually writing this while I am aboard 9W 304 and so far so good – not a single bump so far).

So, why am I scared of this one? You see, I am someone who believes in signs. And I believe in vibes. And feel. And for some reason, I have this really strong feeling that this one isn’t going to be the nicest of flights that I’ve been on. Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me how I know it. I just know. Of course I am often wrong and so far I’ve been proved wrong. Hope I continue to remain wronged till I land. And I post this. I did!

The sign actually came up the day before. There are times when I remember my dreams and day before I saw this weird dream where I was on top of an aircraft for some reason (top as in on the roof of an aircraft that was in the air and doing its thing of flying 30000 feet above the sea level). The aircraft I am on top of, suddenly takes a dip and it eventually crashes into the sea (yes a sea). And as it crashes, like it happens in the movies, I jump off it just at the right time to escape unhurt. I don’t recall the rest of the dream exactly but there was someone else who was on the roof of the aircraft and escaped with me. And I remember pinching myself to check if it were reality and it did feel like real. Damn the vivid dreams.

To cut the long narrative short, I escaped. And for the last 24 hours, I have had this lingering feeling that I am going to be in a place crash. And I was scared before I boarded this one. I am still on the aircraft and I am still writing and it still is pretty smooth so far. But before I boarded, I was scared. Scared out of my life. I actually thought about cancelling the flight – but I cant. I need to earn money to stay afloat. I am paying a lot of money to be able to attend a meeting that can potentially lead to work.

In fact I was so scared the whole day today that I had planned for my folks, my sis and sgMS after I am gone. Though sgMS doesn’t need me, I still ought to think about her. I even thought about the airline I was flying with – Jet Airways. I checked their safety record, thankfully I could not find any reports of a missing Jet Airways jet, unlike the Malaysia Airlines.

The flight is not over yet. I am not done yet. If anything were to happen to me, please see this link. The post has my last and final will that I wrote in all hosh-o-hawas. Mr. Gawri, please ensure that you execute it.

Update: As you would’ve guessed, I did land safely. And here is the post, almost unedited. Guess the dark cloud is over. And trust me guys, I am super serious on this one – while I know that commercial aviation remains the safest most of mass transit, I did feel weird getting into the aircraft. But as I did get in, the familiarity with so many previous flights took over and gave me this sense of comfort. And here I am!

And while we are on the subject, please do read this blogpost by my writing guru.

Dear 4E on 6E 462

GARG / SAURABH / MR on 4D

Dear 4E on 6E 462,

First things first, this must be the 234th (or 287th) flight that I have taken in last five or so years. No I am not exaggerating. Neither am I showing off. I am just putting things in perspective.

Second, you may want to classify me as yet another delhiwallah – the concept of which is flawed in the first place itself. But trust me, unlike popular perception, the average ~~Joe~~ Amit walking down the streets in Delhi is not a pervert. He respects women. He knows his boundaries. He knows where to stop. He knows that there is life beyond merely ogling at women. He has dreams. He has aspirations. He has other things on the agenda.

Of course you wouldn’t take my word for this. If you would, why would you be so uncomfortable sitting next to me? I promise I checked for BO and I was not stinking. I even asked an aspiring author who had come to meet at the airport about it. And he seemed nonplussed by my question.

Third, you are gorgeous. You looked great. I am serious. You have to be one of the most good-looking women I’ve ever had the fortune of sitting next to. Not just at 35000 feet but anywhere. Except when I’ve sat next to sgMS. But no so good looking that I forget who I am and make uncalled for advances at you. I know better than that. I do. Trust me on this. If not for your antics, I would’ve never even looked in your direction even once.

So, now with all these things out of the way, dear 4E, pray answer one simple question. The question has given me sleepless night last night and most of the day today. I am confused, I have never seen such a behavior from any other co-passenger in any of the flights that I’ve taken in my life. The question is… Why dear 4E would you contort your face, snort, shiver every two seconds? And then look at me with those accusatory eyes every third second? What did I do?

At first I thought may be 4F was troubling you. But the dude on the other side obviously a first timer and he was busy taking pictures from his window seat. That couldn’t have made you react like that. Or may be it could. You looked like a rich woman and in your world, flying could be a privilege reserved for a select few only. I don’t know. Just speculating you know.

Plus, modern planes, especially in India and in coach class are classic example of cramped spaces. You must be used to your large mansions but some amount of discomfort is expected when you fly. No?

Thank God that your discomfort was not evident enough for the air hostesses to take note of. If they noticed, they would’ve reported me for sure. And I, the poor bald old man from Delhi wouldn’t have had anywhere to go. I am scared of heights and my pics being taken and splashed all over the Facebook.

When I realized that my presence was THE thing that was bothering you, I tried faking sleep, I tried to write, I tried to read and I even went to the loo twice, hoping that my absence would give you some sort of peace.

But no; Everytime I came back to 4D, you would shrug and then look at me. You know such things can scar people for life?

Thankfully I was wearing a pair of denims and a nice shirt. If I were in my regular flying attire – shorts and an old tattered tee-shirt – you would’ve definitely asked them to change your seat. Come to think of it, that’s a good idea. I must dress like that when I fly. There’s a higher probability that I’d fly in peace! I’d do it next time on. And when I do that, I hope I don’t meet you again onboard a plane. Actually not just on 6E, not on 9W, not on the ground. Not anywhere else.

I don’t want to meet you ever again. All the best to your beauty and your issues with people like me. To the day I die, I would be bothered about your issues with me. I am willing to tolerate more sleepless nights but I am not willing to meet you again. Ever.

Happy flying.

~~Love~~ Regards,
The bald man on 4D

Note:
This is the first in a series of blogposts that I plan to write every time I take a flight.

Why would I do so? Because I love writing. And I love flying. And I love watching people when they’re flying – for some reason flying brings out the best (or may be worst) in them. And there is something or the other that happens every time I fly. Like one time, I was in this long queue and I had less than 2 minutes left to check-in. Wait… that’s a story for a different time.