So I decided to fly Air India after many flights on Indigo and Jet. The reason was purely logistical, no other airline had a flight to Ahmedabad at the time I preferred. I reached the airport more or less on time, armed with my boarding card and lounge access card. I was looking forward to some quiet time in the airport lounge with the latest issue of The Economist.
I entered the terminal building and proceeded to the check-in counter. I couldn't wait to check in my bag, as it wasn't very comfortable lugging around a laptop bag, a suit and a suitcase with only two hands. I dumped the bag onto the check-in counter and handed over my web check-in printout. The lady at the counter had a disgruntled look, and she frowned while she studied my printout. Then she waved the printout at me and said, “You're at the wrong counter.” I could hear the sound of glass shattering inside my head. “Huh?” was all I could muster. She replied, “This flight leaves from the International Terminal. You can still catch it if you run.” I glanced at my watch. It was 6.10 pm, and my flight departed at 6.55 pm. More glass shattered inside my head. I asked the lady, “What's the quickest way to get to the International Terminal?” She just shrugged her shoulders and muttered, “Rickshaw.”
I grabbed my belongings and sprinted towards the exit. I was stopped at the gate by the same guard who had let me in. He lazily asked me why I wanted to head back out. I told him why. He still insisted on examining my printout for discrepancies before handing it back to me. As soon as I came back outside the terminal, a man dressed in a rickshaw driver's uniform ran towards me, half-screaming, “Ahmedabad? Ahmedabad?” Before I could comprehend how this person could possibly know that I was going to Ahmedabad, my legs had already taken control of the situation and started moving towards him. He grabbed my bag and said, “Sir, this happens all the time, and all I do is ferry hapless passengers such as you back and forth. I'll take you from the inside road and we should make it on time.” I didn't know whether to laugh at the fact that there was person making a living out of Air India's inefficiencies, or to worry whether I'd reach on time. I jumped into the rickshaw and we set off as if a Formula One Race had begun.
My driver weaved in and out of traffic with amazing skill. I made it my mission to hang on my three pieces of luggage and not look at his driving, focusing my eyes at my feet the whole time. He asked me, “Have you checked in already on the internet?” I merely nodded feebly in the affirmative. His face lit up and he exclaimed, “You'll definitely catch the flight then!” In a matter of minutes we pulled in to the International Terminal. I effectively paid him a big tip by not asking for any change back, and half-walked, half-ran towards the check-in counter. It was 6.25pm, the time at which boarding was scheduled to start. The same look greeted me here as well. The lady at the counter couldn't print my boarding pass, so took me to her duty manager. The manager told me, “If you want to catch this flight, you'll have to take all your luggage on to the plane. You can't check anything in.” As I had a choice in the matter. I agreed, and I got a new boarding card. I heaved a sigh of relief. The duty manager added, “Why can't you people make it to the airport on time? You should be happy I'm letting you on to the flight at all.” It took a lot of mental strength on my part to fight the urge to snap back at him, and I set off towards immigration.
The Air India runner-boy who had been deputed to get me through to the gate quickly did a fantastic job and we were at the security check in no time. At security, the guards checking the bags were in no mood to hurry up, even though there was a long line of frustrated-looking people waiting. They were talking to each other in Bhojpuri about plans for Diwali, Priyanka Chopra, Cricket and Kingfisher Airlines (not all at the same time). It was already 6.40pm. The doors on the plane would be closing. I nudged one of them to hurry up as my flight would leave any minute. Bad call. He asked a series of rhetorical questions, like “Tum PM ho ka?”, “Amrika jaa rahe ho ka?” and “Siraf tumhe late ho raha hai ka?”. I apologized profusely, and luckily was allowed by some of the people waiting in line to get checked ahead of them. I continued sprinting towards the gate and my watch showed the time to be 6.50pm. I felt the side-effects of having been a smoker as my heart was pumping and my lungs were heaving. The gate came into sight, and I slowed down. Panting, I handed over my boarding card and walked onto the plane. The plane was new, clean and well maintained. I loaded my bags into the overhead compartment, wiped my face and collapsed onto my seat with my eyes closed.
“Kya hua, beta? You're looking like you just came running.” I opened my eyes to see an elderly air hostess smiling at me. “Can I bring you some water?”, she added. I just smiled and nodded. I told her my story in a few sentences and she smiled politely before leaving me to myself. The plane was empty save a few souls, and I was stretching my legs at in my exit row seat, when the same air hostess returned with a much younger colleague. The young lady asked me whether she could give me a briefing on how to operate the Emergency Exit, to which I nodded. I could tell it was her first time, as she didn't seem confident and skipped minor details here and there (I know, because I travel more than my fair share). I smiled at her, trying to reassure her. In my head, I was wondering whether training on giving safety briefings should be done on the job rather than in advance. I resisted the temptation to ask her a random question on the procedure.
The flight pushed back from the gate on time, and another elderly air hostess buckled down in the crew seat in front of me. She smiled warmly, and my company identity card dangling from my belt caught her eye. It sparked off a conversation between us which lasted till the end of the flight. We talked about my job, about the stock markets, about life as an employee of Air India and even about our favorite airports. Like many strangers I have met before, she was also worried about financial security. She loved what I told her about good investment habits and by the end of the flight, she was ready to start investing! I gave her my visiting card as we landed on schedule and we wished each other a good night.
I know it is a general perception (which I also have) that Air India is an inefficient, unreliable and outdated airline, that it is a drain on taxpayer money and it should be shut down. I don't know what the right thing to do is, but today I got a fresh perspective on the human side of Air India: The check-in staff, the manager, the runner boy and the in-flight crew. Many of them are just pawns in the grand scheme of things and have seen their aspirations wither away with the fortunes of the airline. For these people, I hope that even though Air India might stumble, fall, splutter but in the end it must manage to get back up, wipe the dirt off itself and keep walking.
