Khaki-clad men flagged us down as wepulled into Indira Gandhi airport on a chilly December morning. But noticingAnjali next to me, they waved us on. Her good looks and modern garb assuaged theterrorist threat posed by my beard, nose and skin.
Two days earlier, our Christmas Eve Air Deccan flight to Kolkata had beencancelled. Delhi was powerless against the aeronautical mayhem wreaked upon itby fog, the holiday rush and a lack of preparedness for both.
Standing at the end of a check-in line inside the airport, the sea of peoplesurrounding us seemed manageable and calm. But within minutes, scruffy queuesswelled into a mass of frustrated travellers. Perspiration began to trickle fromthe pores of impatient passengers, and the airport was rendered a Darwinianlaboratory.
Those afflicted by delusions of grandeur began pushing forward, casting asidethe weak with imperious gestures and loaded trolleys. We proceeded to theswarming waiting area and squeezed ourselves onto a solitary leather chair. Aplasma television aired a 24-hour Hindi news channel. As breaking news items andstock values streamed across the screen, a crackling PA system announced a slewof additional delays.
Donning a blue blazer, a Sikh man loomed nearby and occasionally stared at us.The sheath of his kirpan gleamed under the tube lights. Next to us, alarge-rumped woman wearing a shawl shifted to the edge of her chair, so close tous that we could smell her breath. Seemingly oblivious to our presence, Rump’sjean-clad thigh engulfed Anjali’s smaller one. What audacity! Several minuteslater, I heard a loud thump. An exhausted elderly woman in a sari had thrownherself down on the vacant half of Rump’s seat. Although Rump didn’t knowSari, she wasn’t perturbed by her presence at all. How sublime.
After more delays, we finally ascended the metal staircase to our Airbus, onwhich a Zee logo was plastered. NDTV had sponsored a couple of overheadcompartments inside the cabin. "Always rest your case," quipped theirslogan.
The media was apparently invested in corporate aviation. Could it be relied uponto provide a critical discussion of plans to privatise the Capital’s airport?
Indira Gandhi Airport clearly needed a makeover. But as Delhi had experiencedwith electricity, putting public entities in the hands of private businessesdoes not guarantee efficiency or forthrightness. Anyway, debates of publicversus private could be rendered trivial by ethics and effective regulation.
After sitting at the gate another 20 minutes, we took off. Hungry passengersasked to purchase food; but none was available, for there had been no time torestock. As Captain Escobar welcomed us aboard with a Spanish accent, I thumbedthrough the airline magazine. An Air Deccan executive wrote effusively about hiscompany’s rapid expansion. "This is not just our story," he mused."It’s the story of new, vibrant India."
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This article originally appeared in Delhi City Limits, February 15,2006
