Angels in the Sky

By Pawan Verma

With the boarding pass in hand, I become complacent, assured of a seat on the flight. I forget the fact that this Air Mauritius flight from Mauritius to Singapore is heavily over-booked, mainly because of the sudden rush of tourists to Singapore on a shopping spree following the liberalization of customs duty by the Government of Mauritius.

But late-comers must suffer. As I enter the aircraft, I discover to my dismay that non-availability of any vacant seat in the Economy Class has made me an “outstanding” passenger. But the air hostess is helpful, “Let me find a seat for you Sir, in the Executive Class on the same ticket”.

She is back within a minute with bad news for me, “Unfortunately Sir, both the Executive and the First Class are full. But the Pilot has offered that you could travel in the cockpit if you find it convenient.

The first fifteen minutes in the cockpit are full of the excitement of seeing the plane fly. I become part of the flying crew and switch on some of the knobs located on my side. But once the plane is horizontal in the sky, the excitement peters off as nothing happens thereafter. I am gradually overpowered by loneliness and frustration and desperately wait for the seven-hour flight to end.

I look back from the cockpit door and exchange glances with the two gentlemen, sitting on an exclusive sofa, separating the cockpit from the First Class. I learn from the Co-Pilot that they are the Airline’s Resident Managers at Bombay and Singapore. Looking at them a thousand thoughts keep creeping in my mind about the hollowness of the airline’s claims of customer friendliness.

My frustration increases as I discover that both the wine and the women – I mean the air hostesses – come up to the sofa, but dare not cross the “Laxman Rekha’ to enter the cockpit. As I resign myself to my fate and the two oldies, in the semi-darkness of the cockpit, a beautiful angel appears from nowhere and whispers soothingly in my ears, “Sir, our Resident Manager at Nairobi is travelling in the First Class and having come to know that one passenger is travelling in the cockpit, has offered to exchange his seat with yours.

I couldn’t have asked for anything better. My admiration for the airlines swells up. As I enter the First Class, the beautiful air-hostess offers her scarlet smile with a compelling request: “May I take off your jacket Sir?”
I accept the smiles and give her the jacket. What follows is royal treatment – pizzas and pastries, sherry and champagne included.

As we close-in on our destination, the pretty air hostess is back to me with a bewitching smile and a trayful of exotic perfumes. Anticipating the high cost of shopping in the air, I show my reluctance. Undeterred, she gracefully settles down on her knees by my side on the carpeted aisle, her scarlet scarf gently caressing my bare hands. My sales resistance is immediately lowered at the soft touch and I flatter her by saying, “Give me the one which you are wearing”.

‘Oh, that’s Nina Ricci Sir. One can never go wrong with this.’

On my return, I present the Nina Ricci to my sweet and lovely wife at the airport itself. Knowing my naiveté at the exotic extravaganza, she teases me with a meaningful smile, “The angel who sold you this must be extremely beautiful.”
“Sure, she is”, I confess.

This brings to a happy end a journey well undertaken. But lighter side apart; although I am myself on a marketing assignment in a service industry, these angels in the sky have taught me something on customer care and friendliness, which is worth thousands of seminars and conferences.
(First Published in Hindustan Times dated July 22, 1996)