Mid air seems to be the only time where there is no escaping my thoughts. These are the moments when I miss the internet the most. From being an information highway, it has become a distraction highway. The right thing to do for me instead is to embrace these thoughts.
The flight back is not delayed, well at least not too delayed. The crew members greeted me with their arms folded, I replied with the same gesture. I realised that how much of an effort there is to wish someone a namaste. And when someone from the service industry shoulders the emotional labour of wishing us, we must take the same effort. It also feels nice and genuine to wish someone namaste. Besides there are no powerplays that come with a handshake. Grip tightly, not too firm, to show dominance keep your palm down, grip lightly if it’s a lady, maintain eye contact — so many rules. Namaste to all is better.
I am also happy to note that at the airport I have started to make a conscious effort to try out the other coffee places to get my usual caffeine fix over the obvious choice. And some of the options are truly fantastic.
Coffee in its new avataar in urban India is a mind boggling industry. Even though the source for both avataars – instant/filter and the artisanal variety — remains Chikamaglur-Coorg region. Though there are many new brands hitting the market, it seems like an attractive business to get into. Imagine a nice cafe that serves good quality, affordable coffee. All cups brewed to perfection with expertise. Not with love. I don’t think there exists a single Barista who brews the iced-machiato with love.
Emotions like love and happiness are easily monetised. This is not perplexing at all. Considering how marketers play on our physiological and psychological needs in their promotions and calls to action!
But for how long will we sell goods based on love? And if that strategy actually works then that means the consumer need for love is much more unmet than I imagined. Urban living in general is lonely, so this is plausible. This is true especially if you are a migrant in a new town. With no friends or family around, it is easy to be deprived of touch, both social and physical.
Physical touch is essential to release hormones like oxytocin and dopamine, which is why professional cuddling has emerged as a new age vocation. Deprivation of touch can also make you vulnerable to temptations. Temptations which are further exacerbated by your unmet needs and social pressures. This can be a slippery slope. There is also the question of morality and the right thing to do. The ends versus means questions looms large and the right thing is made painfully obvious. Thus begins the saga of the lonely urban soul who at every stage becomes a target for pleasure providing entities.
Our aircraft tonight is flanked by the moon on one side and the setting sun on the other. It is strange to see the moon at eye level. As kids, the moon accompanied us on many train and bus journeys, but always riding high up in the sky. You had to look upwards, only to find it peeping through the foliage of trees, ocassionally hiding behind a cloud and overall being a silent companion. The same moon has also become a symbol of loneliness. Where you look at the moon and think about your loved ones faraway, and then you wonder if they also look at the same moon and think about you. They perhaps don’t as they have better things to do, you conclude and go on with the urban living.
Urban living also deprives you of one more sensory pleasure – that of being in nature. Even though folks may point out the proximity of national park or cubbon park for city folks, it is just not the same as waking up and overlooking the forest or vast fields. Oh to breath in the crisp fresh air, not corrupted by noxious fumes and hear the birds sing. I have never felt alone in nature.
In fact I have immensely enjoyed the wilderness. And I have always felt right at home even when the chances of being attacked by a leopard were high. The Japanese have a term for exploring nature – they call it forest bathing or shinrin yoku. They have all such nice ideas – take Ikigai for instance. But yes, won’t digress just because I have a long flight home.
Forest bathing is about spending time, preferably bare feet in the wildernesss, exploring and enjoying the feeling of being one with nature. I often think about this. This is when an escape into the wilderness seems tempting. Even the idea of camping in Odisha (fantastic print campaign – Odishaah) seems very inviting. It has been a while since I have done this. The Sahyadris loom large under our aircraft each time I fly over to the south. They stand silently, waiting for me to return. For the last 6 years, I have been promising to visit but like any other grown up relationship I have not stuck to the plan of catching up.
There is slight turbulence, much to my delight. Yes, delight.One of the thrills of flying is experiencing mid-air turbulence. It is such a potent reminder of how uncertain life can be. That in one moment, we could go into tailspin and it could all be over. A name would become a statistic and then would be relegated to the odd record lying with the Directorate General of Civil Aviation and Bureau of Civil Aviation Safety and other such important bodies.
Much to my chagrin however, my masochist appreciation of turbulence never resonates with the people who matter to me. They think it is just a morbid attraction for living on the edge. But then if that were true, would I have given up on travelling on the footboard of the local train?
I don’t do that anymore. Though, I still get tempted. It is such a liberating feeling. The wind in your hair, the rhythm of the rakes, the drowning out of the sounds by the noises that the train makes, as it hurtles through, the passing sights and the smells..Oh what a thrill to live on the edge. Oh wait.
So far on the flight, I have successfully killed five mosquitoes out of the many who are (h)itching a ride with us to the city. They are obviously easy to butcher as they seem a bit disoriented and not their clever selves. There is no escaping mosquitoes even 35000 feet above sea level. Just like my thoughts which continue to thrive mid-air. Writing them down is a good way of embracing them. In fact writing many thoughts down gives them the acknowledgement that they crave. I am better equipped to deal with them once they are on paper.
I wouldn’t go as far as calling it cathartic or anything but writing them down does help. So having now written them down, I must go and ponder them over as the aircraft enters familiar airspace, and the cabin lights go off even as we experience only a mild turbulence, much to my dismay.
Until the next time.