The lost hour!!

So last night while I was well not sleeping and listening to some blissful Mark Knopfler, something happened and I lost an hour... Many call it Daylight Saving, I just think its evil.. A prank played by the insomniacs to make the sound sleepers suffer.. Just like that in a moment of bliss I lost an hour and the enormity of that event stuck me... Its a freaking HOUR we are talking about..

This not-so-happy realization made me take a trip down the memory lane.. Not sure if it was the music, the snow fall or may be something I was having, the philosopher, the introspect-er and the trying-hopelessly-to-cling-on-to-the-past-er took over.. Remembering all the hours which may not have been possible in this lost one but the ones most close to the heart.. Some happy, some not so much, some euphoric, few insane..

1. The 60 min of Sunday mornings when my brother and I were 10 and 8... And Jungle Book..
2. The 1 hour sports period every week during school.. When sports meant shouting at the top of our voices and running berserk all over the place..
3. The hours appointment with the dentist every 15 days.. I believed at that time the ghost looked exactly like the fat lady in the white coat who knew only one word ‘Spit’!! The ice cream grand-mom used to get once we were out of the satanic places. I miss you, Aaji and I no more think of you as the devil, lovely Dentist lady!!
4. The hour in the school bus each day.. The most fun part of the schooling experience.. The hour of singing, antakshari, fighting, gossips, cheating on the conductor at times when traveling by government buses, arguing with strangers over acceptable limit of noise that can be created in public transport.. Geez, feels like yesterday..!!
5. Moving to junior college, the exactly 1 hr lunch break everyday... The hour of new excitements, old stories and new spices, the hour of teenage independence...
6. The one hour extension on Sundays to “In-time” in the hostel. This hour turned into hours as we progressed through college days though.
7. The longest hour when I was trying to reach college for 3rd year result. It was a ritual and superstition to collect the result with the bunch of together. We feared if we all were not together something nasty might happen. I was getting back from Mumbai and trying to make it on time only to learn that there was an Auto-strile. Darn!! I walked, ran, crawled in midst of 100s of worried calls and texts till I made it just in time.
8. Every 60 min of Puoshttam and Fiodiya Theater play.. In the light room or on the stage the euphoria was always at the peak..
9. The excruciatingly unbearable hour of Somaiya classes on Engineering Mechanics. The professor had an effect on the eyelids that it was impossible to keep ‘em open but he hated them closed and in between the students spent an hour of agony and closeness to god to just praying for the hour without getting caught..
10. The most adventurous hour White Water Rafting in Kundalika river with the bestest set of friends...
11. The 10th season finale of FRIENDS.. Watching it with friends and wishing that it never ended...
12. The hour narrated in my last post..
13. The only 60 minutes spent by the beach before midnight on 31st Dec night after a 29 hour journey using all possible means of road transport... The 60 precious moments of splashing waves, tipsy eyes and hardly burning bonfire was the beginning of the most crazy friendship bonds that will last a lifetime...

This list made me think of many other moments which essentially are not remembered with an hour’s measure... All those.. some other time...

For now, in the memory of the hour.. that could have been...

The journey against time...

It is acceptable that after an exhausting 5 day conference the brain doesn’t work that well but it performs to such abysmal levels is unacceptable. So I was set to fly on a 6AM flight out of LA to Chicago. Yes, 6 AM!! I guess I had started losing it that time itself. And for god knows what reasons.. actually could be the party that night.. I booked the cab for 4 freaking AM. Another friend had an International flight to catch at 6.30 AM and I rubbed of my imbecility to him as well and he too agreed to leave at 4 jinxed AM. FYI: we knew it takes min 30 mins to reach the airport from the hostel.

The lovely day before the journey was spent at Universal studios, Hollywood by yours truly without ever reconsidering the the departure arrangements. As I was shouting my tonsils out at the Jurassic park and Mummy ride, somewhere a taxi driver was falling sick and contemplating bunking work the next day. As I was happily shopping at the souvenir shop the same guy was deciding not to inform his boss for whatever goddamn reasons. And thus was sealed my date with the most traumatic journey so far...

Tired as an obese guy running the treadmill for 3 entire minutes, we returned to packing, remembering each moment of the last 5 splendid days together so that we don’t forget a single penny with each other and exchanging pictures so that we could show off on FB and back home. The session was so intense that I could hardly catch a wink. My friend and I were ready at 3.55 AM at the hostel reception to err... WAIT!!! I gave the cab guy a reasonable 30 secs of delay time and approached the manager frantically. Turns out the manager was a patient guy and decided to wait 10 mins before he would make the call. It was 4.20 AM we were still at the hostel with no signs of the taxi. Restless, I finally called another cab. And as fate had it, the same obese guy who ran the treadmill was there to pick us up. It took him an eternity to get back in the cab, buckle himself up and get going.

I was just about to heave a sigh... and there I was.. STOP... I forgot my bag pack at the reception. We were just a block away from the hostel so I got down and ran... The longest run of my life... It was 4.30 AM and we were just starting for the airport. Cab driver asked what terminal and my friend did not know his terminal no, it was not even on the print out he was carrying. Very smugly I looked at my print out and announced terminal no 3. We dropped my friend at terminal 1, which btw turned out to be the right terminal for him and his entire journey from there was uneventful and peaceful while I was just gearing up for the crazy ride.

I got down at Terminal 3 and started looking for American Airline counter when a lady which I am very sure was a witch announced that American Airline was Terminal why god why 4. I looked at the godforsaken printout with a new vision and realized terminal 3 was at Chicago. So with my 20 pounds each check in bag and a 8 pound bag pack, the 1xx pound I ran again. It was 5AM and I din not even have my boarding pass yet. I crawled to terminal 4 and tried to get in the queue, it was too long so I got in the self check in. For some reason it asked me $60 and I had no time to argue with the machine so I made the payment and got the boarding pass. Only to realize I was actually traveling to Fargo from Chicago and did not have enough time at Chicago airport for baggage transfer. This stuff cant be made up... It was happening and I was living it...

I HAD to get into the queue to get my baggage tagged to Fargo and the queue was of all the ppl on the earth who cannot use the self check in machine of course. So the pace of the queue can be imaged. I finally had my turn after what felt like sitting thru Jhoom Barabar Jhoom, the lady very graciously asked me for $60. But I just paid it to that good for nothing machine. “Then check in from there” she said with that glint in the eye. It was 5.10 and I had no choice but to give her the bucks... She tagged my bags and we exchanged fake smiles...

Thoroughly tired I ran towards my gate which was 257 miles away from the entrance. But I passed the security hurdle and made it at the gate just in time. The privileged Business class was then boarding. For once in my life I was happy to NOT be traveling Business Class... Little Joys!!!

I gave my boarding pass and entered the aircraft which felt like entering heaven. Uncannily, I was not frustrated or angry at myself. It was a lesson learned and a good change from my boring traveling routine. I even punched the air and smiled as sat on the worst seat on the plane....