The Homecoming: Part 1

It is 4 a.m. on a cold day in Delhi. I am awoken by a little Peanut rooting around for milk. I think it is just as well for we have to be up in half an hour anyway, to take our flight to Mumbai. I feed the baby, thinking about the day ahead. The husband has suggested that we get a bright and early start on this Sunday morning so that we have the entire day ahead of us to set things up in our Bandra home. It sounds like a good plan, although we haven’t got any sleep the night before either, because of the damn Diwali crackers that startled us and our baby through the night. Anyhow, it is now 4.30 a.m. and Vijay’s phone alarm starts to ring. I watch his shadowy figure across the bed, as the alarm gets louder and louder. Finally there is some movement on his part – he reaches out slowly, switches off the alarm and drifts back off to sleep peacefully. I wait a full five minutes before sharply exclaiming his name, startling him out of his sweet slumber. It is time to get ready.

I walk out to go for a bath and note the light on in the drawing room. Ah, good, the usually slow K is actually ready, despite her panic about the ‘itna kaam, oh baba goh!’ that she had to finish before leaving. I go on over there to ask her to make some tea for Vijay and notice her standing in the centre of the room, dressed in a new sari, with her bag packed and ready on the floor next to her, and a supremely serene look on her face. She looks completely ready to go, a woman who has everything under control. ‘Gud Mawrning’, she tells me sweetly.

I gaze at her closely, get a sudden feeling and ask her ‘Tum poori raat nahin soee ho, na?’

She beams at me, pleased ‘Bilkul nahin!’

At that moment, it hits me. I’m going to go on a plane today to Mumbai - with Vijay, Peanut and the K. It’s going to be an interesting day.

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We are at the airport by 6 a.m. for our 7 a.m. flight. We have a whole lot of luggage with us – three full suitcases and the car seat, along with our hand baggage including Peanut in her rocker. We have shamelessly palmed off the bassinet to my sister’s friend Saurabh who is flying into Mumbai at a saner hour later in the day. Peanut is asleep and I am carrying her in her rocker, covering her with my shawl to protect her from the cold. Vijay has loaded two trolleys, and marches on ahead with one, while the K struggles with the one behind me. I look back at her, a bit worried. I had thought this was her first flight and she might be a bit nervous, but she had allayed my fears by saying that she had flown before with us when we were mere children, handling my infant sister. Of course, that was almost a quarter century ago-but she seemed fine, so I had relaxed. Now, as her trolley wig-waggs this way and that, I am not so sure. I ask her to be careful not to run over anyone’s feet with it. She nods confidently and immediately proceeds to jam the trolley into my shin. I grit my teeth and trot on ahead faster to catch up with my husband.

We get to the counter, miraculously in the shortest line for once. Things are looking up, I think. The efficient Jet employee at the check-in counter processes our tickets quickly and hands us our three boarding passes with a smile. Her smile widens as she sees Vijay playing with the now awake Peanut. Her smile fades as she realizes something.

‘Sir? Where is the baby’s ticket?’

Vijay is stunned ‘The baby needs a ticket? Nobody told me the baby needs a ticket! I’ve mentioned so many times while making the reservations that we are travelling with a baby and no one mentioned a ticket! A ticket? Are you sure? Are you sure she needs a ticket? Can’t be!’

‘Sir, please go and buy a ticket for the baby at the counter outside quickly. There is an infant ticket for some 500 rupees plus taxes – if I hadn’t seen her here, you would have been turned back at the gate’

‘This is ridiculous…no one told me…are you sure?...OK!’

The tall, lanky figure races off leaving me staring at his back with my mouth open. I can’t quite believe it. My husband has organized everything with the express purpose of getting our new baby home. And forgets to buy her ticket.

I have barely recovered from this when he returns with the ticket. He avoids looking at me while collecting the boarding passes. Finally, we have all four in hand and have got rid of our bulky check-in baggage. We move on ahead, and I am hopeful there will be no more excitement.

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We are at Security check, and the K, Peanut and me go towards the ladies counter. I hand our three boarding passes to K because Peanut’s rocker has to be X-rayed, and I have to pick her up and go through the checking booth. I tell her to follow me, but be very, very, very careful not to lose the boarding passes. The bored-looking security lady perks up when she sees Peanut and checks us, letting us go through quickly, nodding while I tell her our boarding passes are with the lady behind us. The K follows soon enough and we then move to pick up our hand baggage. I notice she is gripping Peanut’s diaper bag tightly with both hands. With both hands. Both. WHERE ARE OUR BOARDING PASSES? ‘Oh, shorreee….’ She runs back to the checking booth, where the bemused security lady holds them out to her, telling her that she must be careful with these passes or all will be lost. She runs back to me with a sheepish smile on her face, and I practically snatch them from her and thrust them towards Vijay, telling him to keep them instead.

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We are about to board the flight now, going through the gate. The K is now holding her own bag, Peanut’s diaper bag and my small purse, all tightly bunched up together, in one arm. As we go through the final security check, the guard asks in a casual manner ‘Ek hi bag hai, na?’ The K obviously ignores this question and trudges past. Vijay also ignores the question and the guard loses interest. But for some reason, I blurt out ‘Ek nahin, teen hai’. The guard then calls the K back and listlessly checks the three bags - and we find that my purse has not been stamped by the idiots at the X-ray counter. Vijay has to go back and get it re-checked there, but not before giving me a malevolent glare for opening my big mouth. In the bus, he looks at me and mimics in an unfairly high-pitched voice ‘Naheeen, naheeen! Hamare paas to Teen-TEEN bag hai!’. We laugh about it and as we are getting off the bus to board the plane, he insists on carrying Peanut. He picks up the rocker with both hands. Both. WHERE ARE OUR BOARDING PASSES? We look at each other, at Peanut and then around the bus, just in time to see the K deftly jumping off, the elusive boarding passes flashing in one hand.

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We finally trudge up the stairs onto the flight and are greeted by perky flight attendants. I am feeling glad Vijay had at least blocked good seats for us, front row – which means extra leg space. We get to our seats to find that there is hardly any leg space at all, forget extra leg space. As an added bonus, there is no window there either. We taker our seats stoically, the K in the aisle seat and Vijay in the middle with his long legs turned right into my already cramped leg space.

Peanut has been looking around with great interest but now decides to get cranky as we gear up for take off. The smiling flight attendant informs me that I should feed her as we take off to minimize discomfort in her ears. I nod knowingly – our beloved paediatrician had told me this, too. We are finally settled in our seats.

I lean back and close my tired eyes for a minute in silent prayer. Surely, the rest of the journey will now smooth and uneventful. Right?

Right.