Re: Boeing 777 - Pilot's Review Returned last night from Delhi to Mumbai on a Jet Airways flight. Somehow it becomes very difficult to catch up with the sleep that one misses. First there is a cab ride from office to the airport which takes around an hour, and with most cab drivers of today not being aware of the local roads and in general being newbies in driving, have to keep a close eye on where they are taking you. My driver missed the second turn - even with the Google maps on and the lady from the phone announcing Take The Left Turn... So one can't sleep peacefully in the cab.
Once at the airport, the hunt begins for the boarding counters. That located, you stand in the long queue of people waiting to go to different destinations through the same airline. My flight was late by half an hour, so I was standing in queue with around four hours to kill, while there would be others with just about an hour left for their flights.
Upon reaching the counter, the lady manning (?) the counter was surprised to see me standing in the queue, with the boarding pass printed from the web in hand, no check in baggage and wasting my (and her) time. She even gently scolded me! With the gate number scribbled across the boarding pass, I was shooed off.
To the security check in. This is always a weird experience. With the X-Ray machines capable of detecting whatever you have stored in your bags, the people in khaki still insist on getting the laptops out of the bags, mobiles to be kept in separate trays and all. Perhaps to make sure the line doesn't move too fast to match their own slow methods.
Since I wasn't carrying any laptop, I just emptied my pockets (a visiting card holder and two phones) into the bag. Now there are always people in a tearing hurry to deposit their hand baggage, take out the laptops/wallets/phones and deposit them in another tray and then take off their coats/jackets and put them in another tray and move all these trays in front of everything else on the belt. Dunno why. It surely doesn't make their flights take off earlier or reach earlier. But that's typical Indian behaviour I guess.
Security checks completed, I put back on the things I had removed from my person and then the long walk to the boarding gate starts. The lighting, the atmosphere somehow appears dreary, especially as the night wears on. TIred faces all around, waiting patiently for the boarding announcement.
There are people working overtime on their laptops, people on phones to their near and dear ones, some discussing business deals, some discussing work, and someone actually cursing someone (probably an estranged girlfriend) in the choicest of cuss words. And the inevitable and mad rush to find charging points for the various devices that they use to connect to the people sitting far far way. Not one soul is interested to talk to the person sitting in the next chair.
Observing these folks from various paths of life, gathered at one place out of compulsion, all anxious about so many things in life... Sometimes I wish I could just watch them all and peep into their minds - without having to shell out so much money.
Finally the gate call. The moment for which everybody has been waiting. Again, despite the staff trying to board passengers by zones, you already see a serpentine queue forming at the boarding gates. Everybody knows they won't be left behind, but still people are standing in the queue instead of cooling their bums off in the chairs.
Past the gate, through the aerobridge, into the aircraft. I can see the pilots peering over some charts/paperwork through the aerobridge panel. The cabin is dimly lit, and space appears to be cramped. Suddenly I have second thoughts about whether it's really the best place in an aircraft to be in.
The stewards have their smiles switching on and off as they greet the passengers - I have a suspicion they greet every alternate passenger - and the long line of people waiting to stow their baggage overhead and then occupy their seats.
With everyone belted, the stewards run through the mechanical steps of explaining the seat belts and life jackets - lifeless motions of hands sweeping across the plane (take it any which ways), explaining the exits and the illuminated lines on the ground.... Wonder if they would remain as lifeless if there were a real emergency. It must be a dredge to play out this mime show many times a day. The air hostesses never meet anyone's eye when carrying out this charade - keeping up the impression of a practised and mandatory routine instead of any pretense of genuinely teaching an important survival skill to the ignorant public.
The stewards now make a couple of rounds of the aircraft, asking people to pull up their seatbacks - there are morons who don't understand Hindi or English, or otherwise don't understand the basic etiquette of flight. They need to be told to comply. And despite this an occasional errant passenger is left out.
The lights switch off, and the aircraft is now in motion. First reversing out of the bay and then powering on to the runway. Everyone now surrounds himself/herself into a cocoon. Some have their earphones on, some have their eyes blindfolded. Some, like me, are just wide awake, having nothing to do than just watch the others.
The engines spool up, and finally the brakes are released. The huge bird moves off, slow at first compared to its task, picking up speed, and finally it leaves the ground, taking flight. Banking into a turn it offers an amazing view of the place you are leaving, away into the dark sky.
Sleep doesn't come easy. The body is weary, the mind is weary. One just gives up and dozes off, not caring if the snoring will wake up the co passengers. Sometimes, you can't worry about everything yourself.
There is nothing to do - playing on the mobile soon tires your eyes and mind, the body is fastened into the seat, with many pairs of eyes watching if you want to get up and just stroll about in the only aisle, bumping into people's shoulders and elbows. There is nothing to watch outside.
Finally the moment of life arrives. The whole aircraft is now awake, with trolleys of hot food being pushed through the narrow aisle, and trays being distributed to the passengers. The hustle bustle dies down a few minutes later, as the empty trays and tea cups return to their storages and passengers go back to their business with increased vigour. People usually sleep better with full stomachs.
Nothing happens. Really. Thank god for that!
Soon after, the pilot announces the news everybody is waiting for: we are approaching Mumbai and have been cleared to land. No more going in circles. The approach starts, and the crew make one more round of the craft to again straighten out people's manners.
As the descent starts - you can just feel it, no matter what the rate of descent is - there are various noises coming from the craft. Is that the landing gear protracting from its shell? Is that the flaps extending? What's this third noise? Was it the nose gear? Is the aircraft shaking too much or is that just my imagination?
Amidst all this anxiety, the aircraft makes a couple of sweeping turns mid air, getting aligned with the glide path. You can see the tips of the wings above the horizon, sometimes the aircraft appears to be flying higher than the moon - sometimes you see the ground lights and realize you are still in the earth's atmosphere. Finally as the ground starts appearing closer and closer, you know the moment for which so many hours were spent by so many individuals, is fast approaching. The touch down.
I have rarely been able to keep myself calm as the giant bird races towards the ground, in an apparent suicide bid. Just as the ground rises up fast below our feet and the hutments and structures are passing by at a dangerous speed, there's a thud. Something between the aircraft and the ground is working to keep us rolling, safely. The aircraft bounces, ever so slightly. But the body has been so attuned by now, you sense it, and panic. The pilots are probably crossing their fingers for having landed within the safe mark.
Suddenly the now quiet flight is enveloped in a whooshing noise as the craft rolls on the grounds at insane speeds. That proves air is much much thinner than ground. Finally you sense the speeds reducing and reassure yourself that all this while the aircraft has been under total control of those two individuals sitting closest to the danger zone in case of a collision.
Those smart people don't switch on the lights till the last moment, when the aircraft comes to a halt in its designated bay. People have already unbuckled themselves, but without the lights no one wants to stand up and open up the overhead bins. A very smart and simple solution to the classic Indian problem.
No matter, we still get up as soon as we can and get the bins opened and get our bags out. Doesn't matter if the staff will ensure we leave the craft, doesn't matter that the aircraft will most likely go for cleaning and maintenance and nobody wants to be on it then. Doesn't matter if the aisle is narrow even for one person to stand up and walk down without brushing against the seats. We shall do what we do best: Queue up as fast as possible!
Not many people bother to answer the farewells from the stewards. I do make it a point to thank them for a safe flight, and occasionally when the pilot himself is waiting by the exit, I feel a strange sense that perhaps that comment meant more to him than the hours he will add to his roster that day.
Strange, this flying business. |