This story is from April 21, 2007

Air farce

The Indian air force is flying high. Not the IAF, but the much larger air force of citizens taking to the skies thanks to cheap fares.
Air farce
The Indian air force is flying high. Not the IAF, but the much larger air force of citizens taking to the skies thanks to cheap fares. Let's go to New Jalpaiguri, Mrs Sethi tells Mr Sethi in Punjabi Bagh, Dilli. Where's New Jalpaiguri, as distinct from Old Jalpaiguri, and what's in it?, asks Mr S. How I am to be knowing so many things about Jalpaiguri, Old or New?, replies Mrs S.
But I am seeing in the paper that air fare to Bagdogra, the airport for New Jalpaiguri, is just Rs 99, plus taxes so how can we not go to New Jalpaiguri. And even as the Sethis of Punjabi Bagh are packing their bori and their bistar to hie off New Jalpaiguri-wards, the Boses of Beliagacha, Kolkata, are planning a weekend trip to Aurangabad, wherever and whatever that is, but the return fare to which is only Rs 88, plus taxes, so how can you go wrong? Or rather, how can you not afford to go to Aurangabad?
When state-owned carriers had a monopoly, only VIPs MPs, babus-in-chief, and maybe a sundry Tata or Birla, just to break the monotony could afford to fly, or 'air dash', to use the preferred term. Common janta had to make do as best as it could with trains and buses. But the entry of low-cost airlines has Mandalised the Indian skies and air dashing has become as common as saas-bahu soaps. Which is all to the greater democratic good. Except for one thing. With so many people whizzing about in so many airplanes, it's getting horrendously crowded up there, with the result that yesterday's air dash has become today's air crawl, particularly if you're travelling in and out of the metros. You can dash between Aurangabad and Delhi for Rs 88, plus taxes, in one hour 50 minutes and then crawl round and round over Palam airport waiting in circling queue to land, in the process using up God knows how many gallons of exorbitant aviation fuel, plus taxes.
Air dashing has other attendant hazards. We're going to Kashmir in May, Bunny announced a couple of weeks ago. Why on earth should we go to Kashmir in May, or anytime else?, I asked. Don't get me wrong. I've nothing against Kashmir or the long-suffering Kashmiris. In fact, I'm all for Kashmir for the Kashmiris, with Pakistan, India and, most importantly me, safely out of the unholy mess. Bunny explained, as though to her favourite retard, which I suppose I am, that we are going to Kashmir in May because the Delhi-Srinagar air fare then is only Rs 1,200, plus taxes. So we booked the non-refundable, non-transferable tickets. Only to discover that the Rs 1,200, plus taxes, flight took off from Delhi at some ungodly pre-dawn hour like 7.30 a.m. (anything before noon is pre-dawn for me). Change to a more conveniently timed flight? Sure. For Rs 600 cancellation charges extra per ticket. So we changed the tickets, at 600 bucks a pop. To find they'd spelt our names wrong (Bani and Jag Suria). Can't fly in and out of high-security Srinagar with misspelt tickets, a dead give-away of our terroristic intentions. Change tickets again. For another 600 per ticket for cancellation charges. Which by now totalled up to more than the fare of Rs 1,200, plus taxes.
Then came the question of accommodation. Flying to Srinagar for Rs 1,200, plus taxes, was fine. But where were we going to stay in Srinagar having got there at Rs 1,200, plus taxes? I doubted if the Rs 1,200, plus taxes, gave us dossing down rights in Srinagar airport. So we booked a houseboat in Srinagar. For Rs 5,000 a day, plus taxes. Then there are going to be side trips to Gulmarg and Pahalgam, at Lord knows how many Rs, plus taxes. I don't know about the rest of India's flying public. But I don't think I can afford the cheap fares of the Indian air farce. Plus taxes.
author
About the Author
Jug Suraiya

A prominent Indian journalist, author and columnist.

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