Trudge towards the other part of the world - 2

"The flight has left sir," the mellifluous voice of the lady spoke at the Jet Airways check in counter.
I could imagine lord Krishna shrugging in helplessness.
She continued to stare at my tickets, 'would there another one?' I felt like asking the stupid question. How would there be another one on the same night ?
Ok...ok, I wanted to rush to the Air Sahara, or Indian Airlines, or even 'tent cinema ishtyle' Deccan Avaition (they don't even have seat numbers). There would be another one. Wouldn't there be another one?
"Got stuck in the traffic sir?" she spoke, still looking at the tickets.
Did I see a ray of hope??? Else how could she be so cool when I HAVE MISSED MY PLANE.
"Big time jam," I blurted out of frustration. "Was stuck in there for half hour," I uttered, adding ten more minutes to heighten the effect.
"Sir, would you be interested in the next flight to Chennai, scheduled at 9:05?"
Was she really saying that? Was she really saying that? Was the damsel really saying that?
"Surely," I waited for her next response.
As her carefully manicured fingers flew over the black dell keyboard, I was feeling a blend of emotions, and none of them due to the highly impressive lady on the other side of the counter. Yes, at peace time I might have atleast flashed her a charming smile. But now, with an unshaved visage of four days, sweaty shirt, and unkempt hairs of a lost warrior, the thought of a smile was a remote possibility.
'Could I bargain for a discount on this plane?' the sinful thought did pass by me. Was not I just lucky enough to get a flight to Chennai?
'Ok sir, please check in the baggage, and you could go over to the last counter to have manual booking done' she handed me over the ticket with the most awesome smile, I have ever seen in my entire DAY, but felt as though it had been the smile of my LIFE. She had not even charged me!!!
Jet Airways, I love you!!!
As I got my manual booking done on the other counter, I just said "This has been a great experience for me to travel from Jet Airways", and I meant that.

As I sat along with my relieved parents, and the smart sister (she had guided me of all the shortcuts to be taken to the airport road, girinagar to airport road in 25 mins in the god forbid peak hour!!! Well, she might a write a book on that one soon), I just looked around the airport for some beverage.
"Who is she? Where is she from? Where does she reside? What does she eat?"
Yes, now there was time for all the questions in the world.

A short flight on the Jet Airways mini plane took me from hot, and sweaty Bangalore to hot, sweaty, and stinking Chennai. Soon, I found myself standing in a queue for checking my luggage into the international chain of flights. Few minutes later, I had exchaged greetings with a german lady in her middle ages, with a HP bag hanging on her back. Now, HP has not yet ventured into bag making, even after paying offshore guys loads of money for the work of cutting open the peanuts (the Sandeep smiles), but she worked for the great organization.
An hour later I stood before the customs officer, just hoping that he would not come to know about all the 'Subbamma's special Chutney powder, Sambar powder, etc, (all non sealed) that was in my bag which I had sent on the conveyor belt. This check was from Indian side, and was sure that the clearance for such stuffs was not checked for here.
But, how the hell can I predict the procedures? I was doing this for the first time.
The customs officer, a clean- chap with curly hair, looked at me for the second time. Then back into the picture of mine on that blue book, my passport. Yeah, I appeared quite innocent in that mug shot.
"What do you do?" he asked, not lifting up his eyes.
"Software engineer," I uttered the words nervously, which he would have heard from thousands who would have passed these gates.
"You should become a film actor," he uttered, the world 'film' being spelt more like 'fillum'.
"I have done that also," I smiled, relieved.
"Which movie?" he maintained the expression.
"Kannada movie," I told him, as I took my passport back.
"You should do Tamil film" he said, still maintaining the stern expression.
I smiled, said "Thank you," and scoot towards the escalators.
Yes!!! I had cleared the last hurdle towards my international flight. A nostalgic feeling swept over me, as I recollected my father saying that exactly twenty one years back he had boarded his first international flight. Would he have walked through the same halls?