Baby blues

I am back connected, wired, booted back into the world wide web. Was an eventful flight to Manchester. I had lot of hopes of rubbing shoulders with the Shah Rukh Khans and Abhishek Bachchans of the world in the flight to London, which is undoubtedly the favourite haunt for the bollywood starlets to run behind trees with the opposite sex along with million other pelvic-gyrating dancers. I was also hoping to seek company of these studly looking hunks who seemed to hover around for the same flight. Alright alright, I know I am married. But mild flirtation doesn’t hurt anyone does it? :-)

I was one of the first to get to my seat in the flight. Much to my disappointment, I did not encounter any – let alone film stars, not even the saas bhi type soap opera extras. I looked at every studly guy expectantly who passed by. No one seemed to have a seat remotely close to mine. And suddenly I see this heavily pregnant lady making her way through the aisle with a rather impish looking kid. Now children and I have a long history of ‘mutual admiration’ and I was in no mood for any such stuff. I was muttering under my breath hoping the lady shifts the direction and heads elsewhere. And in the next moment, I see her settling down in the aisle seat on my row with the wailing kid tucked in safely in the middle seat next to me.

They showed the movie Black. I like the first half of the movie with young Rani Mukherji learning to cope with her handicap. I think the young girl did a commendable job. In fact, I thought she was better than Rani in the second half. I watched the movie until the first half and then decided to pull the blanket over and go to sleep. I had just about drifted when suddenly my thighs felt heavy and I woke up to see this pesky kid trying to get to the window. I kinda have him nasty glares so that he realized I am not all that goodie. It did have some effect on him for a while. Pleased with myself, I turned over and curled back to sleep yet again. After a while, I felt a leg on my back. This time, the kid was trying to climb over my seat and jump into the back seat. I pushed him back into his seat and tied the seat belt tightly around him. After a few minutes of wriggling and twisting, he finally managed to free himself and continued his tormenting acts on me yet again. This time, I blew the top. I gave the child a tight pinch and sent him howling away to his mother for the next 10 min. The poor mother was too overwhelmed with her ‘burden’ to say anything to her kid or me and I instantly felt sorry for her to be bringing another of the pesky brat into the world and felt immense admiration for her infinite patience with this menace. But the pinching trick did make him sit in one place and finally drift off to sleep for about an hour. That’s about the only time I got some shut-eye in the 12 hour journey.

I had a transit from London to Manchester. And all I remember of my brief stay in Heathrow airport was walking, walking and more walking. Must have walked nearly 2-3 km that day trying to claim just my baggage. And some more to get to the domestic terminal.

Manchester is really beautiful. Excellent weather, good food, cute red-bricked DDLJ-type rowhouses, nice well-equipped apartment with French and Argentine roommates, nice work environment and little jetlag, life is a lot of fun and it’s a beautiful sunny day. I am transforming into a Brit already.:-)