At that time the ‘Air Bus’ service in India had not been introduced. Most probably the year was 1988. The ‘Fokker Friendship’ planes of Indian Airlines, with a capacity of forty-two passengers shuttled leisurely between Guwahati and Kolkata. My job assignments compelled me to take the aerial route to various places frequently. One afternoon, at about four, I arrived at the airport to board the flight from Kolkata to Guwahati. It was possibly April. The airport authorities informed that the flight would be delayed due to bad weather.

While travelling by plane across the open sky-penetrating the clouds, my mind is always infested with a sense of uncertainity. And if I am to hear that the weather is unfavourable, the feeling further deepens. Along the road, if the car has a mechanical breakdown somewhere, it can be stopped for repairs. Along the waterways, too, one can find a little time in such a situation. But, in the heart of the sky, there is no such opportunity, and so, I remain apprehensive at all times. Nevertheless, I bided my time, waiting to board the aircraft. The announcement requesting us to proceed towards the waiting plane, delayed by two hours, finally reached my ears. My seat number was two in the second row, with three other seats. With two seats on either side, there was the aisle in the middle. The seats in front of me were occupied by a plump boy of about seven or eight years, with an elegant lady beside him. Most probably, she was the boy’s mother. The boy couldn’t remain still for a moment. Once, he would unfasten his seat-belt, and the next moment, he would lock it again. He repeated the activity a number of times. When the air hostess arrived with juice and toffees, the boy grabbed two glasses from the tray, and taking a sip each from the glasses, began to fill one glass with the juice from the other, as though he was a circus-acrobat. The play went on uninterruptedly, with water sprinkling out of the glasses every time, and the boy didn’t stop till the glasses turned empty. When the air hostess arrived to distribute toffees, the boy stuffed his pocket with as many toffees as he could pounce upon, keeping the woman waiting for quite some time. She tried to maintain her professional appearance of cordiality, but the disgust within her slipped to show tinges of it on her face. The attire and bearing of the boy and the accompanying lady bore an apparent stamp of genteel affluence, but the boy’s behaviour and activities were enough to put anyone on the throes of irritation. The mother watched everything with passive indifference and a total lack of concern which, in truth, exceeded ours. I had a feeling that repeated failures in attempting to reform the boy had brought a strange indifference in the woman, and she could do nothing but remain a silent spectator.

In the meantime, the announcement for departure reached our ears. I once again examined my seat-belt. The plane sped along the runway and within moments rose from the ground towards the heart of the sky.

The boy got up and unfastened his seat-belt and began to pace down along the aisle. The strict tone in the instructions of one of the air hostesses made the boy cower a bit, and he returned to his seat and locked the belt. The plane, by now, was in its designated altitude, roaring ahead along its route parallel to the ground.

Just then, the alarm-lights blinked, and it was followed by an announcement that passengers could unfasten their seat-belts if they wished to. The boy in front of me seemed to understand English, for just after the announcement, he unfastened his belt and remained still for some moments. I felt as if he remained waiting for the most suitable of opportunities to pounce upon his adversaries. As if I were entrusted to observe the movements of the boy by a sense of unknown concern and responsibility, disregarding my personal thoughts. Just then, I noticed an air hostess entering the cockpit with a tray. I could guess that the pilot and his assistant were being served tea or coffee. The woman emerged with the empty tray, but had carelessly left the door ajar. We caught sight of portions of the cockpit’s interior. In a flash, the boy sprang from his seat and stepped into the cockpit. The sight instantly spurred me to action and I darted after the boy as fast as I could – hoping to prevent the imp from causing some horrifying situation in as sensitive a zone as the cockpit. Had it been a journey by road, it would have been different, but now, at an altitude of almost thirty to thirty-five thousand feet in the air, it was altogether an alarming situation. Inside the cockpit, I grabbed the boy’s hand from behind as an expert grappler and tried to prevent his restless fingers from poking at any of the scores of switches on the board around the pilot. My mind was just about to leap in delight at having succeeded in preventing a catastrophe, and saving the plane with the lives of forty-two passengers in it, when the assistant pilot turned his head towards us and said, “Leave the boy alone! You don’t need to worry at all. Let him look around.”

It was like pouring water over a fire. I had voluntarily performed a heroic act embracing the choicest adjectives --- dutiful, responsible, reliable, etc., and arrived at the peak of glory, when the show of indifference and unconcern by the assistant pilot not only had me frustrated, but also made me feel as someone taunted and grossly insulted at that moment. I tried to hide the hurt and insult within me, and stood at the place for some moments. I loosened my grip on the boy’s arm. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, I moved my eyes all around the cockpit and with a cordial smile, I asked the assistant pilot, “There are hundred of switches, how do you remember all these?”

With the same lack of concern and normal tone, the answer that I received from the airman augmented my feeling of uncertainty and restlessness before a journey by air with a new dimension.

He said, “Don’t worry, half of them are not working ! ”

Translated into English by: Krishna Dulal Barua

Pankaj Thakur