Airport Syndrome

'BOSE', embossed in its singularly brilliant boldface, sends a thrill down your spine as you run your fingers over it. Now, it nestles comfortably over your ear, shutting out the world around you in a way only the magic called noise-cancellation can. You then nonchalantly pull out your iPhone 4S and turn blue-tooth on, even as you admire how snugly it fits your hand. You know everybody in the lounge is looking at you even as you pull your American Tourister carry-on closer. Then, tucking your cheeks into the turned-up collars of your dazzling jacket and looking over the upper-rim of your aviators, you walk confidently towards the 'Self check-in kiosk' where the confused young man stands.

Stepping across him deftly, you manage to do in a minute what he hasn't been able to in ten; you are secretly delighted. Of course, if it was a lovely lady who was equally baffled, you'd have checked-her in and guided her through Security Clearance as well, but too bad for him! He isn't a chick, is he? And you've impressed him enough.

The only time you have a conversation with fellow passengers, you make sure you convey to them your preference for the Emergency Exit recliner seat or why you find the other airlines better. After all, it's all about being more aware and savvy than everyone around you. In fact, airport facilities are no longer just for the convenience of passengers during transit; they are so often the reasons why people fly! It's important for people at airports to show fellow passengers how much they have travelled or how frequently they do... Sometimes, they forget to remove a sticker which mentions DXB and AMS prominently.

The Airport Syndrome is something which repels you only momentarily before devouring you completely. The next time you must be a willing participant in the whole charade or you must be strong enough to admit to people that you don't know. People might snigger at you but really, it's okay to say you don't know where your boarding gate is. It's okay to admit that you have never been to this airport before. You don't have to be cool all the time. It's okay.

Although nomenclature might suggest otherwise, this syndrome is not nearly limited to airports! While I'm quite certain that its origins lie in aircrafts and airports, today the syndrome is commonplace in bars, discotheques, restaurants and showrooms.

At dinner today, I inquired about a particular dish to which the waiter replies - "Sauteed with olive oil, there is just a dash of marinara sauce... Finally, sir, it is garnered with mouthwatering parmesan."

"Mmm, sounds good," said one of the occupants of my table.

Please tell me how the fuck I'm supposed to know how that'd taste.

My New Roomies

I brought food from home: a bag full of it. In fact, I took pains lugging it through Security-Check, proving to them at certain points that the sweets and savories weren't in fact plastic explosives and miscellaneous children of modern warfare. It was, of course, totally worth the effort. Home-food is, as you will agree, unparalleled in awesomeness. And one can never have enough of it.

And thus food from home found itself in S7 - Cautley Bhawan after a rather painful dry spell. It doesn't require Einsteinian IQ to figure out that one can't bring Vadais and Appams and Payasams all the way here, and still manage to enjoy them as food few days later if one isn't anaerobic. Luckily though, the same doesn't apply to sweets and savories. And one can never eat enough of them.

The ants dwelling in my room can't get enough of them either. I discovered today, with much alarm, that (not only are there lizards on my walls) I share my humble dwelling with myriad ants as well. I haven't ever bothered their sedentary lives just as they haven't interrupted mine. But today marked an end of those days of peace. Quite obviously, there isn't enough place for both of us! And hence I took to arms.

But then I faced the tiniest of problems. They were feasting on my 'handmade murukku' which I valued simply too much. So bashing their skulls in with the umbrella handle was out of the question. So, I calmly broke off a piece and kept it beside the rest of the stuff. And presto, within quarter of an hour, the ants completely forgot the packet full of murukku and went after the measly piece. I smiled. And then I threw the piece out of my window. And with it, my roomies.

It surprised me that all those ants went after one single piece of food. They forgot about the whole packet of goodies. And they'll never find out about the bag (mothership) of food. Somehow, I find their behaviour appallingly similar to ours!