Day one

On the way to the airport in Tuticorin the road was very bad. Air Deccan called to say that the flight was advanced by half an hour. I was shocked, I had never heard about a flight being advanced but then Air Deccan is known to be different.

I told my cabbie to hurry up. He gave me a dirty look which said ‘Look at the road man, you want to hurry on this and break my gear box’. I sat down quietly. We reached the airport on time for the advanced take off.

It never happened even on time. The flight took of an hour late. I screamed at the lady who had called me. Her explanation ‘Most passengers come late so I thought this would help’. ‘What if I had an accident because I was speeding?’ She was not impressed.

Anyway reaching Chennai late, the Spicejet counter was closing. They refused to give me by boarding card. I pleaded that I had a flight to catch to New Zealand and waved the ticket at them. Luckily they did not look too closely at the ticket which was for the next day. They let me in.

Reaching Mumbai, the airport was crowded. Lots of people fly these days I thought. The next day I reached the International Airport at Sahar three hours early. My friends had warned me that flights are over booked and people who came in late would be left behind.

I checked in and got a window seat to Bangkok. The Singapore Airlines hostesses who passed that way looked like little beautiful dolls. I wished I had flown their airlines. But my thrifty agent had booked me on Thai as it was 2000/- rupees cheaper than Singapore Airlines.

The flight was full. It lasted four hours. There was no TV for me. ‘I cursed my agent’. They gave me only two drinks. The food wasn’t bad but nothing to rave about. Bangkok airport is very impressive.

We were standing in line for the Visa. One official came up to me and said ‘It is rude to wear slippers. Go and buy shoes from the duty free shops if you want a Visa’. He collected the passports of five of us and told us to collect it after we bought shoes.

I told the others to wait. ‘Slippers are worn by all people who come from hot countries. India and Thailand are hot countries. Why are you behaving like a salesman for the duty free shops’ I asked. The man was furious. He was joined by another indignant lady from the Visa office.

She wanted to know if this was my first visit to Thailand. I said ‘No!’. She said ‘I don’t believe you’. After looking through my passport she realized that I had not visited Thailand. Anyway I was not visiting their country and had no desire I told her. I was there because I flew Thai.

I told the man to keep my passport and I would appeal to the King whose posters are everywhere. The man gave up. But he got his revenge by keeping us waiting for three hours for our visa.

The hotel van was waiting for us at the entrance. The hotel was five star and fantastic. The receptionist told me that I had to pay for food as the Airline only paid for my stay. The room menu had massage on it. The massage was very good but expensive.

For lunch I checked the menu. There was nothing less than 850/- baths. The baht is 10% more expensive than the Indian rupee. I walked to the airport which was right opposite. Lunch cost me 30 bahts.

I went back to the Airport early as usual. Again I got my window seat. It helps to be early.  This was a 12 hour flight. Again they gave me only two drinks. Stingy airlines. The hostess explained that the passengers get drunk and misbehave.

Arleene is from the Philipines. She was going to New Zealand to find a job. She is a software Engineer. ‘I hope I find a new job if not I will have to go back in 3 months’. I told her to be positive. She already had a friend here with whom she was staying.

The flight finally landed. Immigration and customs were very friendly. Outside the airport there was no one to receive me. I called my friends office. The operator was very sympathetic. ‘All the way from India, and no one to receive you, Oh! Dear!’ I felt better.

I was smoking outside the terminal. An official told me that this was a no smoking area but I could smoke on the other side of the road. I was going to like this country.

Sivaji

I finally saw Sivaji. The movie was houseful at the Bombay theatre in Tirunelveli but tickets were available at the Ram theatre there. AC Balcony tickets for 60/-rupees. Bombay multi-plex goers eat your heart out. They don’t make them cheaper than this. For your information stall tickets are 10/-rupees only.

In the movie Rajnikant acted like Rajnikant. He did not have to act like the character. That’s for ordinary stars not for a superstar like him.

I have read numerous reviews about the movie. All talk about Rajnikant and a few talk about the villain. No one mentioned the Heroine. What a mistake?

Shriya is a pleasant sight. Not only is she pretty to look at she is sexy too. She has all the right curves and the right size.

What happened to all of Rajni’s buxom ladies. Khushboo, Nagma, Meena, Soundarya, all of them were plump. I thought Rajni chose plump heroines so that they don’t steal his frames.

But this time around he is got himself a real sexy babe. And for the dances the winsome lass showed what the audience loves. Lots of skin and yet sensual, never vulgar.

To her credit Shriya must be the only heroine in the world who has acted opposite both the son in law and father in law. Correct me if I am wrong.

She was chosen for the songs and she does justice to her role. As a story Sivaji does not make sense at all. But then who needs to make sense in a Rajni movie.

The songs were too loud to be melodious. I thought Rehman was made of better stuff. He too must have realized that for a superstar movie you don’t need to strain yourself. The great one would carry the movie on his shoulders. The rest were there for the ride only.

Vivek’s idea of comedy is imitating Rajni. After the heavy build up the villain surrenders too tamely. He too must have been overwhelmed with the presence of God on the sets. Ah! The sets , they were out of the world.

Have money, will spend, that’s what the sets said.

I enjoyed the movie. After all what more could you ask for in a movie. Rajni is there so you cannot add anything more. He is the ultimate you know. 

Basiliko

My friend and PR Arati told me that I had to be at the Basiliko at 3.15 pm to meet Neha Dhupia.
I called Radhika to ask where it was. She said 'Take Turner road and go up till you see 'Pot Pourri'
on a corner. Take the right and you will be at Basiliko in two minutes'.

I reached there at 3 pm. Lovely place. I was walking in when a rude voice said loudly 'Where are you
going?'. 'Inside' I said as a matter of fact.

Once inside I stole a glance at all the guests to see if the star was early. Two security guards
accosted me with 'What are you doing here?'. 'Looking for a friend, infact Neha' I said in my
most pleasant voice possible under such circumstances.

'There is no Neha-Veha here' they said rudely again. 'Really' I asked. They were emphatic in
their obvious desire to see me out of the place.

I did not oblige them. 'If she is not here, she will come' I said non-chalantly and planted myself
on a sofa. It went down deep putting the table out of reach.

The waiter gave me some water and also the menu. I ordered a chicken sandwich as I had to eat.
It came in time. It was given with some potato chips. Very filling. The grilled sandwich was delicious.

I asked for the bill and paid for it. In the meanwhile Neha sms ed me to come home. When I was walking out
the waiter asked sarcastically 'Neha did not come?'. I did not think it was his business to ask but
never the less gave him a sad smile.

On the way out I accosted the security guard at the gate. 'Don't you have any manners? Do you know
how to behave with customers? As he did not seem to regret his obnoxious behaviour I raised my voice.

A crowd gathered. More security guards came in from inside. They were hostile. As I did not
leave the place the manager came out. He wanted to know what happened. I told him. He apologized.

I accepted that and left. After all the owner's girl friend was my favourite actress.

This should serve as a warning to all people who are dark skinned. Do not go to Basiliko.  Unless you are accompanied by a fair skinned lady. Some one as fair as Ayesha Takia or Neha Dhupia.

Basiliko

My friend and PR Arati told me that I had to be at the Basiliko at 3.15 pm to meet Neha Dhupia.
I called Radhika to ask where it was. She said 'Take Turner road and go up till you see 'Pot Pourri'
on a corner. Take the right and you will be at Basiliko in two minutes'.

I reached there at 3 pm. Lovely place. I was walking in when a rude voice said loudly 'Where are you
going?'. 'Inside' I said as a matter of fact.

Once inside I stole a glance at all the guests to see if the star was early. Two security guards
accosted me with 'What are you doing here?'. 'Looking for a friend, infact Neha' I said in my
most pleasant voice possible under such circumstances.

'There is no Neha-Veha here' they said rudely again. 'Really' I asked. They were emphatic in
their obvious desire to see me out of the place.

I did not oblige them. 'If she is not here, she will come' I said non-chalantly and planted myself
on a sofa. It went down deep putting the table out of reach.

The waiter gave me some water and also the menu. I ordered a chicken sandwich as I had to eat.
It came in time. It was given with some potato chips. Very filling. The grilled sandwich was delicious.

I asked for the bill and paid for it. In the meanwhile Neha sms ed me to come home. When I was walking out
the waiter asked sarcastically 'Neha did not come?'. I did not think it was his business to ask but
never the less gave him a sad smile.

On the way out I accosted the security guard at the gate. 'Don't you have any manners? Do you know
how to behave with customers? As he did not seem to regret his obnoxious behaviour I raised my voice.

A crowd gathered. More security guards came in from inside. They were hostile. As I did not
leave the place the manager came out. He wanted to know what happened. I told him. He apologized.

I accepted that and left. After all the owner's girl friend was my favourite actress.

This should serve as a warning to all people who are dark skinned. Do not go to Basiliko.  Unless you are accompanied by a fair skinned lady. Some one as fair as Ayesha Takia or Neha Dhupia.

WRPRO

WRPRO stands for Western Railway Public Relations Office. The office is on the third floor on the building above Churchgate station in Mumbai. It’s a misnomer. Actually a more realistic name would be Worst Run Public Relations Office.

Let me tell you why I say this. The anniversary of the bomb blasts was in the second week of July. So we had to do a lot of stories for that. To get these stories we needed the help of the PR.

Tried all the numbers but no one was picking up the phone. So went there on Thursday 5^th July, 2007. No one had the time to even look at you. Leave alone give you information of any use. The problem was MR was coming on Saturday 7^th July.

And no ordinary MR at that he was a crowd puller they said. For the ignoramus MR stands for Minister of Railways.

Laloo was coming to inaugurate the four lines between Virar and Borivali. So PRO Motha told us ‘We are busy with the visit of our MR on Saturday, you come and meet me at 11 am on Monday and we will give you everything you desire’.

Monday was the 9^th and the anniversary on 11^th. But beggars cannot be choosers. The next day I had to do a story on security. In this regard I met Lalit Kumar who is the Chief

Security Commisioner of Western Railway.

He gave us a good insight but added that if we needed specific precautions taken in Mumbai we should meet his efficient commandant Devendranath B. Kasar- who was in charge of Mumbai alone. He sits in his office outside Bombay Central station. He is Senior Divisional Security Commissioner.

He was very polite. We had to wait in his office. He had gone to meet the Divisional Regional Manager. He came back in half an hour. We were let into his office by a very rude peon. He made us sit down and gave us water.

We were not allowed to click his picture or click a picture of a board in his office. ‘About security whatever I wanted to tell you, I have already put it down in writing and given it to the PRO Pranai Prabhakar who sits in Churchgate. You please go and meet him. He is a very nice man’.

We told him that the PRO was busy with his MR. He told us that he would speak to him. Calling the PRO on his mobile did not work, he did not take the call. We wondered that if he did not take a call from the Senior Divisional Security Commissioner, what chance did we poor reporters have.

All our pleading fell on deaf ears but we were allowed to photograph the board after much argument. We went back to the PROs office and were shooed away till Monday.

Monday dawned bright. At 11 am we reached the PRO’s office. Motha was not there. We are asked to speak to Senior PRO Bhagat. He said that the DRM Western Railway was the best person to speak on Emergency measures. He gave us a lot of information.

Next I needed statistics about how many people die due to accidents on Western Railway. Pranai Prabhakar’s secretary Shiby Nair was totally helpless. ‘Sir is not here, don’t know when he will come. You need an appointment to see him’ was her reply to every query.

Anyway the worthy PRO Motha put in an appearance. Pranai by the way is the Chief PRO. Motha said ‘Everyday ten people die in both Western Railway and Central Railway in Mumbai’. He said that they he did not know the figure separately for Western Railway alone.

I told him that I could not write and article with that one quote and I needed figures for the last ten years. He said that I should go back to our office and send him a fax. I told him that it was very funny. I was standing in front of him. Why should I go back to the office to send him a fax.

He was upset. ‘Why are you so aggressive. That is the system we follow here. We cannot give you information unless you give it in writing’. I told him that I would give him a letter immediately. He was not ready to accept any letter from me, said ‘You address it to our CPRO i.e Chief’.

I wrote the letter and gave it to the CPROs secretary. On Tuesday morning I went there again. I was told to speak to Ajay Solanki, Chief Public Relations Inspector. I met him. He said he had the data for 5 years not 10.  Something is better than nothing. But he refused to tell us unless his boss cleared it.

So we waited for the boss. No sign of him. He was with the GM. So I had to call him. He said he was very busy with the anniversary functions but he would ask Solanki to give the information I wanted.

I called Solanki three hours later and also the next day. He said his boss had not told him anything. He refused to talk to me. The anniversary came and went and still no statistics. Solanki has since stopped taking my calls.

Then we wanted to speak to a train driver. Called up the DEE (Operations). He said ‘I sit in Bombay Central. The train drivers come to Churchgate. You meet the head of the motormen there Mr. Meena.

Went and met Shri Meena. He said he needed a letter from the PRO saying that the motorman may talk to us. So we went back to the PRO. Motha was not there. Pranai was not there. Bhagat was not there. But there was a very helpful PRO there. Insisted that we do not write his name or take his picture.

He told us to speak to Smita who was sitting outside his cabin and cutting news pages. She drafted a letter and said we had to wait for it to be typed. The typist was on leave. So she requested CPROs secretary to type it for us. She did type and gave it.

PRO said that this was ordinary paper and he wanted it on the PRO letter pad. So a print out was taken on the letter head. We finally got it and rushed to Mr. Meena.

Meena told us to come back in an hour. After an hour we waited for another 30 minutes. We finally did meet our train driver. Thanks to that nice man who doesn’t want to be named.

The PRO is the interface between the press and the Railways. If they don’t co operate what can we do but give them titles such as Worst Run Public Relations Office. Don’t think they care after all they are Government servants whose unique selling point is job security without labour.

The PR department on the third floor of Churchgate station occupies almost 2000 square feet. A sheer waste of space and man power.

Waiting for Godot

Whenever I am traveling I am touched when someone bothers to come and receive me. So when some one I know is arriving I always go to receive them. This time around it wasn’t a friend.

I had been asking for an interview to a film world make up artiste the week before. It had not happened thanks to the artiste’s busy schedule.

He told me that he was flying back that night from Kolkatta and I could meet him at the airport. We could have tea and do the interview. I jumped at the idea as I was leaving Bombay the next day.

The flight was to arrive at 1030 pm. In the evening I called to make sure he was taking the flight. I reached Mumbai’s Santacruz airport at 1015 pm. I was dead tired as I had been awake since 5 in the morning.

The airport was very crowded. While departure of private and Indian Airlines had been segregated into two terminals, arrivals had been clubbed in one. That was one of the reasons it was crowded. The other reason is the dropping fare’s and the bludgeoning middle class.

It was very hot and humid and the rains came down gently every now and then. This added to the humidity and discomfort. There were no chairs to sit. No air condition and no fans and the place was dirtier than a street in a slum.

How can the Airport Authority of India treat us this badly? Are we not a part of their plans. People arrive and people come to receive them.

Shouldn’t we have an arrival lounge where people can sit and wait. They can be comfortable while you delay the flights endlessly without even an apology or reason for the delay.

The display changed from expected to delayed. It took another ten minutes to resolve to 11.10 pm. This display stayed till 11.40 p.m. again there was no announcement at all to enlighten me.

My legs were killing me from standing so long. I went and plonked myself on the ground near the glass wall of the airport. I hoped it would break. There were a few people leaning on it.

Airports I began to hate. The cops at the gate were not very helpful. In fact they were ignorant about the topic. Their only job was to keep us out of the departure and arrival hall and clear a passage for the passengers.

Receivers apparently did not exist for the officials concerned. Otherwise would they have left us sweating and legs aching in the heart of the city. Airport travel is the most expensive way of traveling. Can’t they use the money to buy us a few chairs if it isn’t asking for too much.

It was fifteen minutes past midnight when I decided to quit while still standing. I did not want to collapse and make a scene. The flight was still showing 11.10 pm. Well! Must appreciate their consistency.

Next day the make up man told me that the bird finally landed at 12.45 pm. 2 hours and 15 minutes late, total flight time is actually 2 hours 30 minutes. He too had not been told why the plane was late.

I went to his house and did the interview with some excellent Tea.