Chronicles of a Jongleur

So, I am back in Madras, for my usual December sojourn, that seems to take place with unerring regularity every calendar year and allows me to comfortably skip the uncomfortable Christmas turkey dinners and the melancholy white blanket of snow that comes unerringly close to dampening my holiday mood. And given my undying passion to fly all things part of Skyteam, this time I stuck with Air-France. I  should say that there has been a significant improvement in customer oriented attitude- so much so that I successfully managed to blend in Dum Aloo with Merlot and unsuccessfully managed to get one of the plum eyed (and cheeked) stewardesses to  hurriedly reject my earnest marriage proposal. I even managed to dole out half a dozen Euros for Espresso and a stale muffin at Charles de Gaulle! I am now comfortably ensconced in the comfort of my 20 year old mattress and the rejection by the stewardess aside; seem to be surviving very well indeed.

The 23 hour multiple leg odyssey in a steel tube was a big pain -what with getting stuffed in a remote corner of the aircraft where even the rats wouldn’t dare enter. It took a lot of bargaining, pleading and even threatening on my part to get my rear parked into seat 25B- no sir, the exit seats have already been reserved for the babies and their baby producing parents. And of not unexpectedly, the aircraft was full of our kin, complete with nylon rope bound Aristocrat suitcases and handbags stuffed with Chilli powder garnished idlis. And for a change, I refrained from drowning myself in some pathetic in-flight entertainment dished out on little video-game shaped screens in front of me. Instead I embarked on the unenviable task of classifying us travellers into as many tax brackets as I possibly could. Here is the Jongleur’s very own Theory of Natural Selection of the desi traveller.

1. The Blue Eyed Bookworm – This species sticks out like a sore thumb in the midst of a thousand sore thumbs. He is the great P.I.G- Poor Indian Graduate student who typically wears a sweatshirt with his university’s name on the front, back, sides and collar along with 14-pocket cargo pants and white Nike joggers. This community is also defined by brand new Dell laptops that get pulled out even before take off and a 128mb Creative MP3 player bought at the Thanksgiving sale at Wal-Mart. He can also be identified by an unruly mop of unkempt hair and bad looking stubble. This community typically chooses the window seat and sits owl straight looking out through the window a good 3 hours before the plane flies into Meenambakkam. The female of this species is subdivided into two categories – the ones with the tight Tee shirts and the ones without. These two sub-categories belong to diametrically opposite ends of the coolness ring- fake accents on one side complementing an obstinate refusal to make conversation on the other. You cannot tolerate either; typically 2a has a slight edge because of the time and effort they have taken to groom themselves.

2. The returning H1 / L1- God bless this guy if he was formerly a P.I.G. By now, his American payroll has allowed him a pair of sunglasses and Dockers trousers. He also knows to ask for the aisle seat without calling it Ai-ssil. The Dell lappie is a touch worn- but hey, there is the spanking new Treo to go along with the rest of his garb. He will smell his wine before drinking it much to the amazement of the P.I.G. He will also use his little finger to tap onto the In-Flight-entertainment touchscreen. The second variant in the category is typically desi-educated, desi-employed and desi-humble. He is typically an Infy, TCS, Wipro etc. employee on his first return trip back home. He has 2 laptops, an old IBM with a bold sticker proclaiming “This computer and all its accessories are the sole property of Patni Computer Systems……blah…blah“, and of course, his very own Dell.

3. The returning H1/L1 spouse – The poor females in this category are typically unaccompanied by their hyper-busy male counterparts. Instead they are held hostage by the H1 junior and the H1’s mom in her finest pattu silk saree. These people are easily identified terrified looks and baggy T-shirts, and brand new Indian Passports wrapped in plastic bags with a rubber band. A Wrangler inherited from P.I.G. days of their H1 spouse and tightly oiled and braided hair complements their attire. And of course- the great balancing act between the overweight handbags bursting with diapers on one shoulder perfectly co-coordinating with the squeals of the diaper wearer cum American Passport holding brat on the other shoulder. In comparison, the Moms-in-law look as though they have come after a successful career with the World Wrestling Federation- their oversized nose rings and gold rimmed glasses giving them a look that will shame any vamps that you will encounter in Ekta Kapoors’s sob shows. They also harangue the poor H1 spouse to no end on all baby related items- after all they did successfully synthesize the proud H1 dad and conceived the idea of the anchor baby. 

4. The Septuagenarian Parents – These folks are used to the vagaries of long haul travel; this is their 8th visit to the United States to visit their son/ daughter who by now is himself/herself an American Citizen. The male of the species is usually one of the kinds so hilariously portrayed by Ramesh Mahadevan. The female is usually only of two types- the chic one with bopped hair who critically peruses through the menu and orders a salad, the type that spends all their transit time filling their miniature handbags with Chanel and Estee Lauder, and yes, more handbags. The second one of this species is the opposite; typically oily and haggled looking end content to be the quiet one in the house; saving their mini packets of yoghurt for one of their short tempered husband’s hunger pangs over the Atlantic. This couple can be identified by their 10 year multiple entry visas and the knowledge of the intricacies of airport transfers that they dump in great measure over other unsuspecting co-passengers. Not to mention the scene they create with confused security officers over the industrial quantity of garam masala and coconut oil in their carry on baggage.

5. The Business Class Snob- This guy is a cut above the rest. Whilst the rest of us spent months researching the best routes, fares, discounts and ultra-discounts to book our V-class tickets from bucket shop in Chinatown, our friend’s importance in the corporate ladder has earned him a worry free 42 inches of uninhibited legroom.  He will brandish his frequent flyer card at the slightest chance and even shamelessly swagger with his “Elite-Flyer” sticker on his laptop bag- all the while looking at his Tag Heuer watch and complaining how Delta airlines is not the same as the days when they offered non-stop service from Tennessee to Tirunelveli. Clad in a Crocodile golfers Tee Shirt and Khaki pants- he will even walk 45 rows down to economy to talk to the pretty girl whom he happened to meet at check-in. On all other occasions he will ignore other desi folks and choose to have conversations with the either the goras or other pretty flight attendants.

And given the fact that the Indian Diaspora worldwide is second only to the Chinese, it comes as no surprise there are other categories that can easily be identified with utmost ease, most of them associated in some way or the other with the NRI derriere. And there are the new category of International Tourists  on their first trip to Bangkok or London and given that overseas travel has now become so much more affordable, more and more of our kin are getting to see the world in all its splendor. Still, old habits die hard, and the stereotype of the great desi international traveller is as timeless as India itself- and is unlikely to ever be diluted in the face of the emerging India. I have personally belonged to one or more of the categories, and am likely to belong to all of them over the course of my lifetime. More classifications are always welcome- after all, our uniqueness in the international wayfaring community is unparalleled.