Bengalooru to Mumbai

I went to the Jet airways counter, and with a confused look I blabbered out '1 cabin luggage' as I put my hand bag on the counter. The lady cringed, made faces and smiled mockingly, all at the same time as she said 'May I have your ticket please'. I knew I was new at this. Last time I had flown was 2 yrs back, and that time I was really tensed to register the flight check-in procedure into my mental hard disk. I handed my ticket to her. She asked ' Which seat sir? Window or aisle?' almost with a certainty that I would choose window, as she apparently didn’t wait for my answer and continued keying in. Then she handed over the ticket. Phew! Got my boarding pass.
Still confused about the next move I need to make towards taking my flight to Mumbai, I walked into what has become a daily feature of my life - the dreaded queue. As it is queues have always made me wonder about FIFO mechanism adopted by man centuries ago, mostly when there is no interesting attraction standing at a noticeable point in the queue. Without much hope I quickly scanned the winding 'S' queue for security check in. Lucky me!! I noticed two 'noticeable' dames at very noticeable point with quite a inconspicuous bit of raiment. Finally things had started looking up. I quickly calculated that given the speed of the movement of the queue, I would be facing them when I will be in the middle leg of the 'S' and they in the final leg. Well my existence as a part of the queue ended in the 'nothingth of a second' (yeah I m reading hitchhiker guide to the galaxy at present) and after lot of visual inspection, I had come to the conclusion that the dames were quite charming and I longed to be lucky in having a seat next to them. I made a silent prayer and I moved on. I suddenly was shaken out of the day dream by the CISF security guard at the other end of the baggage scanner. He rebuked, 'Where is the baggage tag?’ I got confused again. I knew I was missing some part of the check-in ritual. I shrugged and said 'I am sorry I was not aware one needs to have it?’ The security guard made a u-r-the-topmost-idiot-in-the-world expression and started the discourse -
'Can your luggage get across without the tag?’
I shrugged again and said 'Sorry I am not aware!"
'Can you fly without a ticket?’
I took this up as providence fixed warm up for the stress interview I might face at IITB. I said all-knowingly "No."
He finally gave me the gyan "Just as you cannot fly without ticket, your baggage cannot fly without the tag.”. He would have surely added 'you a**hole' but for the public nature of the place. He was able to get his mind across with his terrific body language. I thought he would make a good manager with such good body language and at the same time mentally bestowed him with the worst profanities in my vocabulary. He finally put in the tagged, gave me one more disgusting look and gestured to move on. I moved forward languorously once again a part of yet another FIFO line, all the while trying to cheer myself up with the images of those two dames who boarded the plane with me. In spite of all my prayers, God decided to let this disbeliever pay the price by being the lone guy sitting in the row with no company whatsoever.
I consoled myself by realising that I need to quickly revise a few printouts for the interview. I quickly skimmed through them while I had my dinner.,mugged up whatever stats I cud find and the plane was about to land. I looked outside the window and was amazed at the sight. We were hovering over Mumbai. The whole city was lit up and it looked like lots of diamond studeed gold ornaments have been strewn over the earth. It was one of the most breathtaking scenes I had ever seen in my life. For some five minutes I lost all the tensions and worries about the next day, as I made sure my memory recorded every second of this view, for later recall. In case of space crunch in my mental 'soft disk' I was even ready to overwrite the recordings of the dames I had observed just a few minutes back and also of the sexy airhostess whose every frame of movement had been recorded with precision for later use ;). So much was I enthralled by it all.
Suddenly the announcement system came alive and we were asked to tie up the seat belts yet again, this was the fourth time in this flight. We were about to touch down. The plane came to a stop and I got ready to alight. Darn one more FIFO. Why is there no system for random movement of humans? Was no one researching into how to get out of this sequential mindset? I quickly recalled the pos and cons of sequential and random file processing systems, just in case it was asked in the interview. These IITB guys are infamous for embarassing you with all basic technical questions even in an MBA interview and I was not taking any chances. As I mumbled a few profanities again, this time directed towards those unknown panel of interviewers who would be taking my interview the next day, I observed that the flight stewards were saying 'Goodbye sir!' to only those people whom they deemed fit for their salutations. I decided to extract every bit of service for the Rs.2400 I had paid for the flight. As I approached the exit I stared hard at the steward, who capitulated by saying 'Goodbye sir!’ Huh! I triumphed.
I was out and boarded the bus to the terminal. Thankfully didn’t have to join yet another FIFO queue as I moved outside the airport. I hired an auto for IITB hostel no. 1.The auto guy turned out to be not much different from his brethren in Bangalore, who have got themselves a very negative publicity for the vile demeanors they usually adopt to extract the last possible penny from your wallet - 'Sir thoda samajh ke extra de dena - 2 hours se line mein khada hoon?'. I made perfect use of the match between my countenance and my destination and replied - ' Yaar student hoon? Kamata nahin hoon. Nahin to de deta.' I was satisfied with my histrionics as he seemed convinced, he had no answer for this and he continued driving.
I leaned back and looked out of the auto. The cool breeze was soothing and I again got lost in my thoughts while admiring the road, speed of the auto and cool attitude of people traveling around me (you should have stayed in Bangalore after 2003 to understand why I was so please by all this). After some time I entered IITB and reached hostel no.1 which looked like a government hospital. I had called Gaurav on the way and he was waiting at the entrance. He received me and auto wallah proving true to my earlier observation asked for 1.5 times the fare. Oh again he was trying to be a typical bangalorean auto driver. I had lost hope and paid him Rs. 100 , Rs. 93 was the due amount. Gaurav argued that it’s not past 12a.m. for the 1.5 times rule and that he must not try to loot money from the students. He went on to say that we have to save zealously to pay our fees. Finally he gave up and mumbled a few words and returned Rs. 7. I quickly revised my impression about Bombay auto walah and added a note in my mind 'PS - They are not so bad after all' .
Gaurav and I exchanged a light hug. We were meeting after 3 years and we shared a great friendship in college. I made an entry in the guest register of Hostel 1 and proceeded to Gaurav's room.

Next - Gaurav and the difference IIT makes .