There they all were. All ready to board the aircraft. All five of them. Dad, mom, grandma and two kids. Mum was dressed in western style clothing, pants and loose top, a trifle uncomfortable, she was so used to the Indian boon of a dress, the salwaar kameez. Pants ? Tight ones, specially, were so well... tight no? specially in the lower regions. With grandma casting diapproving looks at this transformation of her 'bahu ', she had to appear unconcerned, nonchalant even. Patting her newly coloured hair, with a sigh, she settled down into her seat.
A short distance away, sat her beaming husband. Everything was so under control. The family was excited. They were flying to Europe for the summer vacations, for the first time. After 'dropping' grandma at his brothers' home in London, they would proceed for their vacation.
The announcement to board had them on their feet in an instant. Running to join the queue, the man somersaulted over his mother's legs, then furiously glared at his wife for being slow. Hadn't he told her, they needed to board first, to get hold space for their bulging hand baggage. Once on board, the luggage, kids and granny (still rubbing her sore legs) ensconced in their proper place, he was beaming once again. During the flight, when food was served, out came a plastic bag. Food that was not consumed disappeared surruptiously into its depths.
The old lady across the aisle tried sleeping to drown the kids voices, as they ran to and fro. "Hey, young fellar, will you keep still," she tried reasoning with him. "Sorry ma'am, he is too restless, his first trip abroad, you see." the father tried explaining, apologetically. The mum merely gathered him in her lap, and softly, slowly lulled him to sleep. Peace prevailed.
Ah. The hen pecked husband abroad. With family. On a vacation. What's the betting, first into the flight, first off it, first into the bus to the terminal, first off it, never mind granny's feet, kids or bulging bags. The one peering lifting the flaps of the luggage window over the conveyor, trying to see if his bags are next ? Yup ! Him.
You will recognise him dear reader, when you see the guy who runs around arranging his family around the 'sights ' shouting, "photo khichon, photo khichon !" You will hear him as he anxiously queries, "When, toilet stop ? " of the bus driver, adding hurriedly "For my child. " You will observe that he closes his teenage child's eyes, when he sees a couple kissing on the streets of gay 'Paris.' He will carry the camera and the money belt, while his wife will lug along the kids and the other gear. He is chivalry personified as he lunges for the only available seat at the airport, then surrenders it to his wife, while he goes exploring the 'scenery.' He will chuckle to himself, as he hauls up an uncooperative foreigner, using the choicest expletives. In Hindi.
The guy who sucks in his stomach, and feigns an accent, when addressed by the pretty air hostess ? You guessed it. When she smiles indulgently at him and states, "Married, travelling with family" he will look around and reply, "Who ? Me?" in an injured tone of voice.
The only guy, who will help an old British lady to locate and board her flight, on the interminable Heathrow airport, never mind that he risks being the last one to board his own ? Yes. Indian.
A short distance away, sat her beaming husband. Everything was so under control. The family was excited. They were flying to Europe for the summer vacations, for the first time. After 'dropping' grandma at his brothers' home in London, they would proceed for their vacation.
The announcement to board had them on their feet in an instant. Running to join the queue, the man somersaulted over his mother's legs, then furiously glared at his wife for being slow. Hadn't he told her, they needed to board first, to get hold space for their bulging hand baggage. Once on board, the luggage, kids and granny (still rubbing her sore legs) ensconced in their proper place, he was beaming once again. During the flight, when food was served, out came a plastic bag. Food that was not consumed disappeared surruptiously into its depths.
The old lady across the aisle tried sleeping to drown the kids voices, as they ran to and fro. "Hey, young fellar, will you keep still," she tried reasoning with him. "Sorry ma'am, he is too restless, his first trip abroad, you see." the father tried explaining, apologetically. The mum merely gathered him in her lap, and softly, slowly lulled him to sleep. Peace prevailed.
Ah. The hen pecked husband abroad. With family. On a vacation. What's the betting, first into the flight, first off it, first into the bus to the terminal, first off it, never mind granny's feet, kids or bulging bags. The one peering lifting the flaps of the luggage window over the conveyor, trying to see if his bags are next ? Yup ! Him.
You will recognise him dear reader, when you see the guy who runs around arranging his family around the 'sights ' shouting, "photo khichon, photo khichon !" You will hear him as he anxiously queries, "When, toilet stop ? " of the bus driver, adding hurriedly "For my child. " You will observe that he closes his teenage child's eyes, when he sees a couple kissing on the streets of gay 'Paris.' He will carry the camera and the money belt, while his wife will lug along the kids and the other gear. He is chivalry personified as he lunges for the only available seat at the airport, then surrenders it to his wife, while he goes exploring the 'scenery.' He will chuckle to himself, as he hauls up an uncooperative foreigner, using the choicest expletives. In Hindi.
The guy who sucks in his stomach, and feigns an accent, when addressed by the pretty air hostess ? You guessed it. When she smiles indulgently at him and states, "Married, travelling with family" he will look around and reply, "Who ? Me?" in an injured tone of voice.
The only guy, who will help an old British lady to locate and board her flight, on the interminable Heathrow airport, never mind that he risks being the last one to board his own ? Yes. Indian.
Hehe..so true! Peppered with your own experience abroad!
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