First flight
Security screening was not as unpleasant then. There was just one check, a skim through your passport and boarding pass and then a plush seat, with a screen and enough legroom for even the largest of men. Nothing like today’s frisking, slightly erotic, and totally unpleasant ‘encounter’ with security.
What was not so easy, nor enjoyable was the crushing sensation as the mighty aircraft lunged forth into pale blue virgin skies. Deep breaths, vigourous inhalations by four house-sized engines pushed me deep into my seat, it was as if I was being restrained for misbehaving.
And yet I had done nothing wrong, and yet I had this terribly unjust pressure on my chest.
‘It’s just gravity’ someone offered. It was not ‘just’ gravity, but ‘just’ torture I exclaimed in my head. The serenity of ambient lighting and cool wafts of air conditioning were now violently drowned out by the roaring engines.
As we climbed, my two year old skull felt like it was shrinking without having informed its contents before beginning to reduce.
The wail of the engines was nothing compared to my wailing from the hideous pressure drilling directly into the centre of my head.
‘Five hours from Singapore to Bombay’ I thought. ‘This may just kill me’.
And so I closed my eyes, a warm salty drop sliding down my cheek as the angry plane continued to push effortlessly into the sky and into my head.
