Monday, December 15, 2014
Friday, November 28, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
Friday, November 14, 2014
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Friday, October 17, 2014
Friday, October 10, 2014
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Friday, September 19, 2014
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Monday, August 11, 2014
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Friday, August 8, 2014
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Friday, August 1, 2014
Friday, July 25, 2014
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Pregnant Experience on Virgin Express
High security at airports has, ironically, made flying more stressful. Train travel, in most countries, is still a cinch. That my travel by train, in the UK, would add a variation to my experience of decades of train travelling did not cross my mind when I boarded the Virgin train at Glasgow. My wife and I were on a four-day trip to the UK, with first class rail travel courtesy the British Tourism Authority. On the trip, we boarded the Virgin train at Glasgow Central station for the journey to Micklefield through the scenic Lake District of Scotland on the Carlisle-Settle route. "Get off at Lancaster and change for a train to Leeds to reach Micklefield", the friendly lady at the ticket counter had told me, after referring to a tome of a railway timetable. That sounded simple enough.
The four-hour journey to Lancaster had an absorbing view of the countryside and we reached Lancaster, sooner than we wished to. On hearing the announcement "Approaching Lancaster" over the intercom of the compartment, we got up and stood near the exit hoping to get an early connecting train to Leeds. The train stopped and I nonchalantly tried opening the door. But, “what's this?” There was no handle to open the door! “How does one open this *&@#%/\ door?” I panicked. “There must be a handle somewhere, my wife suggested”. No button, no handle. No way to get out. There must be an instruction plate somewhere I thought as I frantically tried to locate one. None. There was no other passenger in the compartment from whom I could have sought advice. Oh hell! The train started moving. God!
Complete confusion. Would we now be charged for ticket-less travel? Would we be shamed as Indian cheats? Visions of spending time in British prisons fleeted through my mind. We thought the best way would be to inform the conductor, that is if there ever was one in the system appearing to be designed for no human intervention. When we finally managed to find the person in the last coach, I addressed him agitatedly but politely, "Excuse me, Sir, we have a ticket till Lancaster but we were unable to get off there". The conductor stared at us quizzically. "May I know why you were not able to get off at Lancaster?" Embarrassedly I said, "Er.., we did not know how to open the coach door". The conductor burst out laughing, "You did not know what? Ha ha ha..... Where are you from, not Mars I hope? Ho ho ho...." "From India," my wife said in an almost inaudible whisper.
The laugh had produced enough dopamine in the conductor's brain to put him in a good enough mood to write out a chit:" Passenger over-carried, please allow to return to Lancaster", Giving it to us, he told us to get down at the next stop, Preston, and take a connecting train to Lancaster. But I persisted with my original problem. "When I was not able to open the door at Lancaster, how do I open it at Preston then?" I enquired. You can't even imagine his instructions on how to do the simple job if you are used to travelling in the Mumbai suburban network, in trains without doors! "Simple," he said, "When the train stops, the glass window of the coach door unlocks automatically in this model of train. All that you have to do then is pull down that window, put your hand out. You can reach the door handle there on the outside; you just turn that handle and presto the door opens!"
Well, I guess we all live to learn!
The four-hour journey to Lancaster had an absorbing view of the countryside and we reached Lancaster, sooner than we wished to. On hearing the announcement "Approaching Lancaster" over the intercom of the compartment, we got up and stood near the exit hoping to get an early connecting train to Leeds. The train stopped and I nonchalantly tried opening the door. But, “what's this?” There was no handle to open the door! “How does one open this *&@#%/\ door?” I panicked. “There must be a handle somewhere, my wife suggested”. No button, no handle. No way to get out. There must be an instruction plate somewhere I thought as I frantically tried to locate one. None. There was no other passenger in the compartment from whom I could have sought advice. Oh hell! The train started moving. God!
Complete confusion. Would we now be charged for ticket-less travel? Would we be shamed as Indian cheats? Visions of spending time in British prisons fleeted through my mind. We thought the best way would be to inform the conductor, that is if there ever was one in the system appearing to be designed for no human intervention. When we finally managed to find the person in the last coach, I addressed him agitatedly but politely, "Excuse me, Sir, we have a ticket till Lancaster but we were unable to get off there". The conductor stared at us quizzically. "May I know why you were not able to get off at Lancaster?" Embarrassedly I said, "Er.., we did not know how to open the coach door". The conductor burst out laughing, "You did not know what? Ha ha ha..... Where are you from, not Mars I hope? Ho ho ho...." "From India," my wife said in an almost inaudible whisper.
The laugh had produced enough dopamine in the conductor's brain to put him in a good enough mood to write out a chit:" Passenger over-carried, please allow to return to Lancaster", Giving it to us, he told us to get down at the next stop, Preston, and take a connecting train to Lancaster. But I persisted with my original problem. "When I was not able to open the door at Lancaster, how do I open it at Preston then?" I enquired. You can't even imagine his instructions on how to do the simple job if you are used to travelling in the Mumbai suburban network, in trains without doors! "Simple," he said, "When the train stops, the glass window of the coach door unlocks automatically in this model of train. All that you have to do then is pull down that window, put your hand out. You can reach the door handle there on the outside; you just turn that handle and presto the door opens!"
Well, I guess we all live to learn!
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Monday, May 5, 2014
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Monday, March 31, 2014
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Editor-in-Thief : A Short Story
It was Asin's fifth day at the Indian Age. After completing her course in Mass Communications from the Asian Institute of Journalism in Bangalore, she had accepted the offer from Indian Age to join them at their main editorial office in Bangalore. The first four days had been spent reading multiple editions of the Indian Age. As part of her induction programme - she along with other freshers were advised by the Editor to read and imbibe before beginning to write for the newspaper.
However, on the fifth day, the newspaper had been tipped off by its sources at the Bangalore International airport about Air Ndia flight XI 810 encountering turbulence over the Middle Eastern skies. After the crash of Air India Express flight at Mangalore, there was heighten public interest in stories pertaining to "incidents-in-the-air". Earlier, news of injuries to passengers due to Clear Air Turbulence would be routinely filed in the inner recesses of the newspaper. However, post Mangalore, public interest made editors give more coverage to "air incidents.
Under twenty minutes of her hitting the send button, Asin's intercom buzzed. It was Divya. " Asin, come over", she said curtly.
However, on the fifth day, the newspaper had been tipped off by its sources at the Bangalore International airport about Air Ndia flight XI 810 encountering turbulence over the Middle Eastern skies. After the crash of Air India Express flight at Mangalore, there was heighten public interest in stories pertaining to "incidents-in-the-air". Earlier, news of injuries to passengers due to Clear Air Turbulence would be routinely filed in the inner recesses of the newspaper. However, post Mangalore, public interest made editors give more coverage to "air incidents.
As the aviation correspondent of the newpaper was on leave, Asin had been asked to speak to the "source" at the airport to get more information on the turbulence that XI 810 encountered and to file a report before 10 pm. Asin looked up Wikipedia, askcaptainlim.com and earlier newpaper reports on other such incidents, before speaking to her "source". She submitted her report to the Copy Editor - Divya Desikan well before the deadline. Her report:
Air Ndia XI 810 encounters turbulence over Middle Eastern airspace
Bangalore: It is reported that Air Ndia's flight XI 810 encountered strong Clear Air Turbulence over the skies of Jordan. It is reported that the aircraft lost height when it encountered turbulence at 37,000 feet. An Air Ndia spokesperson has clarified that Clear Air Turbulence is normal for this time of the year and occurs when the wind at high altitudes suddenly changes speed and direction causing the aircraft to mildly wobble. In some case the aircraft also loses height. The spokesperson also clarified that turbulence lasted for under one minute as the pilot, upon reporting turbulence to the ATC, was moved to a different altitude.
Under twenty minutes of her hitting the send button, Asin's intercom buzzed. It was Divya. " Asin, come over", she said curtly.
" Do you think your story is interesting, Asin?" "Pre Mangalore, we would have carried this on page 7".
" Now, it is our attempt to put out all aviations stories on page 1. Your story is completely inadequate for a page 1 lead". " I have completely recast the story". " I expect all your future filings on aviation stories to be of this standard". She then handed over a sheaf of A4 sheets, which Asin noticed had the re-written story, with her initial story as part of the trailing mails. Asin commenced reading - with great interest:
Plucky pilot recovers Air Ndia flight from a nose-dive seconds before a certain crash into the Dead Sea
Bangalore : The shocking story of how 231 passenger on an Air Ndia flight escaped an almost certain crash can now be told. Indian Age has compiled this story with never before details on how flight XI 810 was saved due the skill and presence of mind of its commander, Captain A.I. Dastur.
Till an hour after takeoff, it was a routine flight. The Pilot Flying, the co-pilot in this case, had put the aircraft on auto-pilot. Captain Dastur had gone to the wash-room. As the he was exiting, he felt the aircraft wobble, mildly. Captain Dastur knew that the aircraft was on auto-pilot and the co-pilot was in the cockpit. The auto-pilot itself would take corrective action. Then, captain Dastur banged his head against the toilet door as he felt the aircraft banking sharply to the starboard side. Instinctively, Captain Dastur knew that all was not well. He hurriedly rushed out of the toilet. What he saw shocked him. People who were not seated were sprawled on the floor knocked out by the sharp banking of the aircraft. Children were crying and there was a look of terror in passenger's eyes. The cabin crew were valiantly trying to restore order among the passenger and were helping others back to their seats.
Captain Dastur frantically buzzed his co-pilot on the intercom - to get him to open the cockpit door. However, there was no response from the cockpit. Captain Dastur then realized that either his co-pilot was incapacitated or was busy trying to get the aircraft back in control. The Captain then punched in on the number pad, just outside the cockpit door - the memorized code, for an emergency opening of the bullet proof steel door. While the Captain was waiting for the door to open, it is programmed to open in 35 seconds, he could hear the clacker from the GPWS (Ground Proximity Warning System) indicating that the aircraft was less than a safe distance from the ground. He realized that there was no time to lose.
As Captain Dastur yanked the door open on the 35th second, he was horrified to see his co-pilot incapacitated - perhaps being hit on the the head when the aircraft had banked steeply. He realized that there was no time to waste - not even enough time to take his seat. Even before sitting down - he pushed the Auto-Pilot bar down to disengage the auto-pilot. Then, in a split second, he pulled back the Flight Control Column with considerable force and got the aircraft out of its dive. Next, he alerted the air traffic controllers. He wasn't done yet. The aircraft had gone into a 30 degree nose dive - at this angle, the plane was flying at higher than its permitted speed - a perfect recipe for structural damage. In order prevent any structural damage, Captain Dastur rolled the aircraft more than 90 degrees in order to take the pressure off the control surfaces until it was safe to switch the hydraulic controls back on. As he got his breath back, he realized that he was only 10 seconds away from crashing into the Dead Sea.
He then flew to his destination at slower than normal speeds in case the aircraft had suffered some structural damage.
Aviation experts, contacted by this reporter, were fulsome in their praise for Captain Dastur whose skillfull airmanship saved the lives of 231 passengers and crew.
As Asin came to the end of Divya's racy piece, Divya snatched back the sheaf from Asin. As the papers were being pulled out of her hands, Asin's sight fell on another trailing mail below Divya's piece:
--- On Wed, 2/6/10, A.I.Dastur@xi.com> wrote:
Till an hour after takeoff, it was a routine flight. The Pilot Flying, the co-pilot in this case, had put the aircraft on auto-pilot. Captain Dastur had gone to the wash-room. As the he was exiting, he felt the aircraft wobble, mildly. Captain Dastur knew that the aircraft was on auto-pilot and the co-pilot was in the cockpit. The auto-pilot itself would take corrective action. Then, captain Dastur banged his head against the toilet door as he felt the aircraft banking sharply to the starboard side. Instinctively, Captain Dastur knew that all was not well. He hurriedly rushed out of the toilet. What he saw shocked him. People who were not seated were sprawled on the floor knocked out by the sharp banking of the aircraft. Children were crying and there was a look of terror in passenger's eyes. The cabin crew were valiantly trying to restore order among the passenger and were helping others back to their seats.
Captain Dastur frantically buzzed his co-pilot on the intercom - to get him to open the cockpit door. However, there was no response from the cockpit. Captain Dastur then realized that either his co-pilot was incapacitated or was busy trying to get the aircraft back in control. The Captain then punched in on the number pad, just outside the cockpit door - the memorized code, for an emergency opening of the bullet proof steel door. While the Captain was waiting for the door to open, it is programmed to open in 35 seconds, he could hear the clacker from the GPWS (Ground Proximity Warning System) indicating that the aircraft was less than a safe distance from the ground. He realized that there was no time to lose.
As Captain Dastur yanked the door open on the 35th second, he was horrified to see his co-pilot incapacitated - perhaps being hit on the the head when the aircraft had banked steeply. He realized that there was no time to waste - not even enough time to take his seat. Even before sitting down - he pushed the Auto-Pilot bar down to disengage the auto-pilot. Then, in a split second, he pulled back the Flight Control Column with considerable force and got the aircraft out of its dive. Next, he alerted the air traffic controllers. He wasn't done yet. The aircraft had gone into a 30 degree nose dive - at this angle, the plane was flying at higher than its permitted speed - a perfect recipe for structural damage. In order prevent any structural damage, Captain Dastur rolled the aircraft more than 90 degrees in order to take the pressure off the control surfaces until it was safe to switch the hydraulic controls back on. As he got his breath back, he realized that he was only 10 seconds away from crashing into the Dead Sea.
He then flew to his destination at slower than normal speeds in case the aircraft had suffered some structural damage.
Aviation experts, contacted by this reporter, were fulsome in their praise for Captain Dastur whose skillfull airmanship saved the lives of 231 passengers and crew.
As Asin came to the end of Divya's racy piece, Divya snatched back the sheaf from Asin. As the papers were being pulled out of her hands, Asin's sight fell on another trailing mail below Divya's piece:
--- On Wed, 2/6/10, A.I.Dastur
From: A.I.Dastur @xi.com>>
Subject: XI 810 - Details for lead story
To: "'Divya Desikan'"
Date: Wednesday, 2 June, 2010, 8:57 PM
To: "'Divya Desikan'"
Date: Wednesday, 2 June, 2010, 8:57 PM
Dear Divya,
I have suitably amended the write-up by Asin, that you forwarded earlier. I have spiced up the incident for your including it as part of the page 1 lead story tomorrow.
I look good, don't I!
I look good, don't I!
AID
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Pilot Error - A Short Story
"AB 358 approach 24 left”
She would have sounded peppier than this voice thought Srinivasan as instructions from the Bangalore ATC crackled into his headphone. Captain A.S. Srinivasan had been flying the Dubai - Bangalore route, with Air Bridge Express, for over two years now. He was making a trip to Bangalore almost twice a week.
“. . . 24 left”
By some strange coincidence, each time he flew in to Bangalore, his Controller at Bangalore ATC was usually Sangeeta Singh. This was one of the few times that it was someone else. Srinivasan had wanted to take it easy this time. He had let First Officer Ajay Dayal pilot this flight. As the aircraft cruised towards Bangalore at 0.84 Mach, fluffy human shaped clouds scattered sparsely across the clear blue skies triggered Srinivasan’s imagination.
He fondly reminisced about his initial interactions with Sangeeta, from his port side cockpit perch. First, it was over the ATC radio. Then, over phone and subsequently at Bangalore's numerous watering holes. Romance had blossomed. Srinivasan recalled, almost embarrassedly, how he had proposed marriage to her.
There was a faint trace of a smile on his countenance when he recalled her acceptance of his proposal to marry her. The formality of their families accepting this proposal went through without a hitch. Both families welcomed the North South Bridge.
The smooth acceptance by Sangeeta, of his proposal to marry her, did not, however, result in a smooth follow through. Srinivasan encountered clear air turbulence when he raised the issue of her moving to Dubai. She went around the issue as deftly as she had guided his aircraft around bad weather. He realized that he was as dependent on her acceptance for getting her to move to Dubai as he was when hovering to get a clearance to land.
He had told her, quite authoritatively, that the Dubai ATC was always in need of experienced Controllers. Sangeeta, he knew, had rapidly progressed from being a Ground Controller to Departure Controller before taking over as Arrival Controller. With Dubai's Terminal-3 operational, traffic had increased significantly along with the need for experienced Controllers. However, Sangeeta would have none of it. The Taurean in her was adamant. She was firm about not leaving Bangalore.
Srinivasan had reasoned with her with crab like tenacity. He had told her that it was much easier for her to get a well-paid job in Dubai than for him to move to India. Working conditions were also much better, he had explained to her. But she wouldn’t budge from her position. She loved Bangalore, its cosmopolitan nature and the weather. Except for her poor knowledge of Kannada, she was as Bangalorean as one could get. She had studied at the Clarence High School. Later, she did her B.Sc at St. Joseph’s College before her training and taking up a position with Bangalore ATC. With the airport moving to Devanahalli, she loved her job even more. The 65 meters tall Bangalore control tower, she had said, was the best.
The radio crackled again: "AB 358 reduce speed now to 160 knots".
"Reducing to 160, 358. . ."
Over the next few months Srinivasan had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Sangeeta to move to Dubai. He finally managed to convince her to make a recce. She checked the malls, her possible work-place, and quality of life. She loved it, but loved Bangalore even more.
"AB 358 slow down to your final approach speed".
Sangeeta had tried to convince him to move to Bangalore. Srinivasan had weighed the possibility carefully before finally decided against it. Air Bridge did not have a Bangalore base. Moving to Fisher Airways would have meant undergoing conversion training – Srinivasan had flown Boeings throughout.
"Correct minimum speed AB 358. . ."
Over the next few months, they had drifted apart. As recession set in, Air Bridge Express, as part of its cost rationalization measures had reduced the number of layovers in Bangalore. They met less often.
"AB 358 contact Bangalore tower frequency 118.35. . ."
While they drifted apart - it seemed that Cupid had other plans. The opportunity came when Srinivasan had least expected it. Air Bridge Express decided to set up a base in Bangalore. The company offered Srinivasan the check pilot position, based in Bangalore. Srinvasan had, of course, over 500 hours of command experience on Boeing 777 - total command experience of over 1,000 hours. He had over 3,500 hours of flying experience.
This was just what Srinivasan had wanted. This was his last flight to India from the Dubai hub. He was not rostered for the return trip. His company policy allowed him 30 days to set up home in Bangalore before he was required to take up his new position in Air Bridge's new office in Yelhanka.
". . .AB 358 keep me advised if you require any deviation off the approach course. I'm showing what appears to be now some lightning at your 12:30 over to your 2:30 position at a range of about six miles".
"Yeah, we've got it on the radar. . ."
Srinivasan wanted to surprise Sangeeta landing bag and baggage at her Sahakarnagar apartment. That was still some time away. A squall kept his aircraft from landing. Besides, post-landing formalities had to be completed.
“. . .AB 358 turn right to the heading of 220 degrees. Going to parallel 24 left a little bit. Once you are on the west side of the weather, I'll bring you back to the approach course. . .
“Showing weather at about 11 o'clock at about 10 miles”.
"... AB 358 continue to descend to 5,000 feet on QNH 1019. Radar vectoring for ILS approach runway 34 with no delay".
" .. AB 358 is cleared to land on 34. Wind is 330 at 12 knots.
Formalities done, Srinivasan boarded the company car to Sangeeta's apartment in Sahakarnagar. He had stayed over a few times before and knew the route well. Srinivasan was glad to be back in Bangalore. This time for good. “30 minutes to Sahakarnagar" he whispered to himself. Sangeeta, he knew from her routine, would be back home about the same time that he reached her place.
Sangeeta had got on to the cab about 10 minutes earlier.
It had been a long day for her. She had muttered the address to the cab driver and sank back into the seat gazing through the cabs widows looking at the fading airport lights as the cab sped to its destination.
Srinivasan waited impatiently for the lift I at Century apartments. Was she back, he wondered.As the lift climbed, the entire sequence of events - from the day he first met Sangeeta - flashed through Srinivasan's mind. He rang the doorbell impatiently while positioning himself away from the line of sight of the magic eye on the door.
The first time he met her was when he had dropped by at the Bangalore ATC after landing. It was rare for a pilot to visit the control tower. Sangeeta was the cynosure of all eyes that evening. It was then that he had complimented her for her peppy voice. Her demeanour, as he discovered was even peppier. For him, it was love at first sight.
She had reciprocated, albeit cautiously. Their second meeting was at a coffee shop enroute her home in Sahakarnagar where he dropped her before moving on to his hotel on Kumara Krupa Road. As familiarity grew, so did the duration of their meetings and the cosiness of their meeting places. They moved from coffee shops to candle-light dinners in a space of 15 meetings in 55 days.
He had proposed to her on their twelfth meeting, at Ebony – Bangalore favourite roof-top restaurant with a magnificent view of the city. Half way through the meal, at an opportune moment, he had whispered." Will you marry me?" She had not replied immediately. She continued with the meal slowly, in silence, as if in a trance. The mood which had been chatty and interspersed with laughter turned sombre after he proposed. He had squirmed till she had reacted. He had wondered if he had timed it well. The silence ended when her acceptance came as they finished desert." I’ll be happy to marry you Srini" she had said softly. He bent forward for their first kiss.
Realizing that Sangeeta was not home disappointed Srinivasan terribly. He was tempted to call her and let her know that he was waiting for her. However, the desire to surprise her overcame that temptation. He dumped himself on the stairs while his luggage sat at a more vantage position outside Flat 606.
It had taken a lot of persuasion from Srinivasan to get Sangeeta to make the recce to Dubai and experience the city and the Dubai ATC before she came to a firm conclusion about not shifting there. She was impressed by what she saw at the Dubai ATC. It handled 5,600 flights a week, with 100 airlines flying to 200 destinations across six continents. The shop-till-you drop at the Mall of Dubai enthralled her. The Atlantis hotel - where they had several meals - fascinated her. Srinivasan was certain that she was seriously tempted into considering a shift to Dubai. Srinivasan had taken a short leave, from work, for long walks in the pleasant Dubai winter. Trips to malls, meals at the Burj-al-Arab, Desert Safari and long drives gave her a good insight about life in Dubai. She had enjoyed her stay in Dubai. Her unhesitating no, which landed a day before she left for Bangalore, shattered Srinivasan. He was anguished and bitterly disappointed but had still remained hopeful of convincing her. On the day of her departure from Dubai, he had hoped that she would change her mind during the drive from this Dera home to the airport. The miracle he wanted did not happen.
He subsequently made several more attempts to convince here. However, she remained adamant. Srinivasan, of course, knew that Sangeeta being a Controller had a high Situational Awareness. She could seize a situation well and come to an unshakable conclusion. At this point, he knew that any more reasoning would not work.
It was nearing ten pm. Srinivasan was tired of waiting. Should he call her, he wondered. He decided to, finally.
"Come on... take the call" he prayed fervently as Sangeeta's phone rang without response.
" Hello"
" Where are you Sangeeta, I have been waiting for you for hours"
" Waiting for me"? "But how did you...."
“Never mind... when are you getting home"
" Ten minutes, I was stuck in bad traffic". " Srini who ... "
" Never mind, just come quickly"
"OK will be there in less than 10 minutes"
It was, perhaps, the longest 10 minutes in Srinivasan life. The ten minutes didn't end in ten.
"Sangeeta, where are you?"
" Ringing the door bell, why aren't you answering"?
“The door bell? Where are you Sangeeta? Srinivasan was almost trembling with un-pilot like anxiety
" Outside your Dera flat, Srini"?
" Dera" Srinivasan blurted. Sangeeta are you in Dubai?
" Yes, Srini. Surprise! I quit Bangalore ATC a month back and caught the Emirates flight to Dubai this evening"
She would have sounded peppier than this voice thought Srinivasan as instructions from the Bangalore ATC crackled into his headphone. Captain A.S. Srinivasan had been flying the Dubai - Bangalore route, with Air Bridge Express, for over two years now. He was making a trip to Bangalore almost twice a week.
“. . . 24 left”
By some strange coincidence, each time he flew in to Bangalore, his Controller at Bangalore ATC was usually Sangeeta Singh. This was one of the few times that it was someone else. Srinivasan had wanted to take it easy this time. He had let First Officer Ajay Dayal pilot this flight. As the aircraft cruised towards Bangalore at 0.84 Mach, fluffy human shaped clouds scattered sparsely across the clear blue skies triggered Srinivasan’s imagination.
He fondly reminisced about his initial interactions with Sangeeta, from his port side cockpit perch. First, it was over the ATC radio. Then, over phone and subsequently at Bangalore's numerous watering holes. Romance had blossomed. Srinivasan recalled, almost embarrassedly, how he had proposed marriage to her.
There was a faint trace of a smile on his countenance when he recalled her acceptance of his proposal to marry her. The formality of their families accepting this proposal went through without a hitch. Both families welcomed the North South Bridge.
The smooth acceptance by Sangeeta, of his proposal to marry her, did not, however, result in a smooth follow through. Srinivasan encountered clear air turbulence when he raised the issue of her moving to Dubai. She went around the issue as deftly as she had guided his aircraft around bad weather. He realized that he was as dependent on her acceptance for getting her to move to Dubai as he was when hovering to get a clearance to land.
He had told her, quite authoritatively, that the Dubai ATC was always in need of experienced Controllers. Sangeeta, he knew, had rapidly progressed from being a Ground Controller to Departure Controller before taking over as Arrival Controller. With Dubai's Terminal-3 operational, traffic had increased significantly along with the need for experienced Controllers. However, Sangeeta would have none of it. The Taurean in her was adamant. She was firm about not leaving Bangalore.
Srinivasan had reasoned with her with crab like tenacity. He had told her that it was much easier for her to get a well-paid job in Dubai than for him to move to India. Working conditions were also much better, he had explained to her. But she wouldn’t budge from her position. She loved Bangalore, its cosmopolitan nature and the weather. Except for her poor knowledge of Kannada, she was as Bangalorean as one could get. She had studied at the Clarence High School. Later, she did her B.Sc at St. Joseph’s College before her training and taking up a position with Bangalore ATC. With the airport moving to Devanahalli, she loved her job even more. The 65 meters tall Bangalore control tower, she had said, was the best.
The radio crackled again: "AB 358 reduce speed now to 160 knots".
"Reducing to 160, 358. . ."
Over the next few months Srinivasan had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Sangeeta to move to Dubai. He finally managed to convince her to make a recce. She checked the malls, her possible work-place, and quality of life. She loved it, but loved Bangalore even more.
"AB 358 slow down to your final approach speed".
Sangeeta had tried to convince him to move to Bangalore. Srinivasan had weighed the possibility carefully before finally decided against it. Air Bridge did not have a Bangalore base. Moving to Fisher Airways would have meant undergoing conversion training – Srinivasan had flown Boeings throughout.
"Correct minimum speed AB 358. . ."
Over the next few months, they had drifted apart. As recession set in, Air Bridge Express, as part of its cost rationalization measures had reduced the number of layovers in Bangalore. They met less often.
"AB 358 contact Bangalore tower frequency 118.35. . ."
While they drifted apart - it seemed that Cupid had other plans. The opportunity came when Srinivasan had least expected it. Air Bridge Express decided to set up a base in Bangalore. The company offered Srinivasan the check pilot position, based in Bangalore. Srinvasan had, of course, over 500 hours of command experience on Boeing 777 - total command experience of over 1,000 hours. He had over 3,500 hours of flying experience.
This was just what Srinivasan had wanted. This was his last flight to India from the Dubai hub. He was not rostered for the return trip. His company policy allowed him 30 days to set up home in Bangalore before he was required to take up his new position in Air Bridge's new office in Yelhanka.
". . .AB 358 keep me advised if you require any deviation off the approach course. I'm showing what appears to be now some lightning at your 12:30 over to your 2:30 position at a range of about six miles".
"Yeah, we've got it on the radar. . ."
Srinivasan wanted to surprise Sangeeta landing bag and baggage at her Sahakarnagar apartment. That was still some time away. A squall kept his aircraft from landing. Besides, post-landing formalities had to be completed.
“. . .AB 358 turn right to the heading of 220 degrees. Going to parallel 24 left a little bit. Once you are on the west side of the weather, I'll bring you back to the approach course. . .
“Showing weather at about 11 o'clock at about 10 miles”.
"... AB 358 continue to descend to 5,000 feet on QNH 1019. Radar vectoring for ILS approach runway 34 with no delay".
" .. AB 358 is cleared to land on 34. Wind is 330 at 12 knots.
Formalities done, Srinivasan boarded the company car to Sangeeta's apartment in Sahakarnagar. He had stayed over a few times before and knew the route well. Srinivasan was glad to be back in Bangalore. This time for good. “30 minutes to Sahakarnagar" he whispered to himself. Sangeeta, he knew from her routine, would be back home about the same time that he reached her place.
Sangeeta had got on to the cab about 10 minutes earlier.
It had been a long day for her. She had muttered the address to the cab driver and sank back into the seat gazing through the cabs widows looking at the fading airport lights as the cab sped to its destination.
Srinivasan waited impatiently for the lift I at Century apartments. Was she back, he wondered.As the lift climbed, the entire sequence of events - from the day he first met Sangeeta - flashed through Srinivasan's mind. He rang the doorbell impatiently while positioning himself away from the line of sight of the magic eye on the door.
The first time he met her was when he had dropped by at the Bangalore ATC after landing. It was rare for a pilot to visit the control tower. Sangeeta was the cynosure of all eyes that evening. It was then that he had complimented her for her peppy voice. Her demeanour, as he discovered was even peppier. For him, it was love at first sight.
She had reciprocated, albeit cautiously. Their second meeting was at a coffee shop enroute her home in Sahakarnagar where he dropped her before moving on to his hotel on Kumara Krupa Road. As familiarity grew, so did the duration of their meetings and the cosiness of their meeting places. They moved from coffee shops to candle-light dinners in a space of 15 meetings in 55 days.
He had proposed to her on their twelfth meeting, at Ebony – Bangalore favourite roof-top restaurant with a magnificent view of the city. Half way through the meal, at an opportune moment, he had whispered." Will you marry me?" She had not replied immediately. She continued with the meal slowly, in silence, as if in a trance. The mood which had been chatty and interspersed with laughter turned sombre after he proposed. He had squirmed till she had reacted. He had wondered if he had timed it well. The silence ended when her acceptance came as they finished desert." I’ll be happy to marry you Srini" she had said softly. He bent forward for their first kiss.
Realizing that Sangeeta was not home disappointed Srinivasan terribly. He was tempted to call her and let her know that he was waiting for her. However, the desire to surprise her overcame that temptation. He dumped himself on the stairs while his luggage sat at a more vantage position outside Flat 606.
It had taken a lot of persuasion from Srinivasan to get Sangeeta to make the recce to Dubai and experience the city and the Dubai ATC before she came to a firm conclusion about not shifting there. She was impressed by what she saw at the Dubai ATC. It handled 5,600 flights a week, with 100 airlines flying to 200 destinations across six continents. The shop-till-you drop at the Mall of Dubai enthralled her. The Atlantis hotel - where they had several meals - fascinated her. Srinivasan was certain that she was seriously tempted into considering a shift to Dubai. Srinivasan had taken a short leave, from work, for long walks in the pleasant Dubai winter. Trips to malls, meals at the Burj-al-Arab, Desert Safari and long drives gave her a good insight about life in Dubai. She had enjoyed her stay in Dubai. Her unhesitating no, which landed a day before she left for Bangalore, shattered Srinivasan. He was anguished and bitterly disappointed but had still remained hopeful of convincing her. On the day of her departure from Dubai, he had hoped that she would change her mind during the drive from this Dera home to the airport. The miracle he wanted did not happen.
He subsequently made several more attempts to convince here. However, she remained adamant. Srinivasan, of course, knew that Sangeeta being a Controller had a high Situational Awareness. She could seize a situation well and come to an unshakable conclusion. At this point, he knew that any more reasoning would not work.
It was nearing ten pm. Srinivasan was tired of waiting. Should he call her, he wondered. He decided to, finally.
"Come on... take the call" he prayed fervently as Sangeeta's phone rang without response.
" Hello"
" Where are you Sangeeta, I have been waiting for you for hours"
" Waiting for me"? "But how did you...."
“Never mind... when are you getting home"
" Ten minutes, I was stuck in bad traffic". " Srini who ... "
" Never mind, just come quickly"
"OK will be there in less than 10 minutes"
It was, perhaps, the longest 10 minutes in Srinivasan life. The ten minutes didn't end in ten.
"Sangeeta, where are you?"
" Ringing the door bell, why aren't you answering"?
“The door bell? Where are you Sangeeta? Srinivasan was almost trembling with un-pilot like anxiety
" Outside your Dera flat, Srini"?
" Dera" Srinivasan blurted. Sangeeta are you in Dubai?
" Yes, Srini. Surprise! I quit Bangalore ATC a month back and caught the Emirates flight to Dubai this evening"
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Monday, February 10, 2014
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)