One dumb thing leads to another...

Aim: to catch a flight from Mumbai to Delhi departing at 8:15 AM on Friday, 19th February 2009, to attend a wedding.

Thursday, 11 PM: I decide to leave at 6:50 AM on Friday morning . Average time from home to the airport (auto): 25 minutes.
Friday, 6:51 AM: I realise that I do not know the airline which I have to fly, logon to the internet and find out that the airline is Air India.
Friday, 6:55 AM: I leave home for the airport.
Friday, 7:01 AM: After sitting inside the auto, I realise that I have forgotten the wedding gift I had bought, decide to not go back to the house for the gift and buy another one in Delhi.
Friday, 7:03 AM: I realise that I have forgotten my phone at home as well.
Friday, 7:05 AM: After dawdling in indecision for several moments, I ask the auto driver to start back for my home.
Thursday, 5:00 PM: I think of getting the printout of my flight ticket, but then give in to laziness and decide to get it at the airport on Friday morning.
Friday, 7:11 AM: I retrieve the gift and my phone from the house and start again for the Mumbai Domestic Airport.
Friday, 7:29 AM: I reach the Domestic Airport (Santa Cruz), get down from the auto and ask the guard for the Air India counter. A taxi driver overhears me and says that Air India flights take off from the International Airport (Andheri). I dismiss him.
Friday, 7:30 AM: I reach the counter which says "Air India". Upon giving my PNR no. and asking for the ticket printout, I am told by the clerk (grinning sheepishly) that my flight will be taking off from the International Airport. He cannot cancel my ticket at the Domestic Airport, so that I can book myself on an Indian Airlines flight taking off for Delhi from the Domestic Airport at 9 AM.
Friday, 7:31 AM: I get inside an auto and ask the driver to 'hurry' for the International Airport. He looks at me from the corner of his eye, sees me sweating, and declares that he wants 150 Rs. for the trip; the auto is rolling down the airport slope.
Friday, 7:33 AM (flight to takeoff in 42 minutes from another airport): After having given the first auto driver a mouthful, I get inside the second auto that comes down the slope and start for the International Airport (to be charged by the meter). I pass the first auto driver, who is still waiting at the spot where I left him, AND DO NOT SHOW HIM THE MIDDLE FINGER AS I CROSS HIM!
Friday, 6:30 AM: I do not do tele check-in, something that my roomie has been trying to teach me for months, and which I have been stubbornly refusing.
Friday, 7:44 AM: I rush towards the Air India counter at the International Airport and get the printout of my ticket.
Friday, 7:46 AM: I reach the check-in counter, to be told that the 'flight is closed'. I tell the check-in executive that I was delayed because I had gone to the Domestic Airport first as the sms that I had received post online booking did not mention that the boarding was to take place from the International Airport. (When I checked later, the mail that I had received post booking mentioned that fact, but I had not cared to check the mail, and I had not printed the same.) The guy gives in after some haranguing, and starts issuing my boarding pass.
Friday, 7:48 AM: I ASK THE CHECK-IN GUY IF I CAN BE ALLOTTED A WINDOW SEAT. HE LOSES HIS SHIRT. THE PERSON WHO HAULS THE LUGGAGE ONTO THE CHECK-IN CONVEYOR BELT INTERVENES... I KEEP MY SHIRT ON...
Sometime in the first quarter of 2007: I agree to the request of a batchmate of mine, to be present at his wedding when he gets married to another batchmate of mine, who he was wooing at the time.
Friday, 7:50 AM: I am given a female escort (no fancy comments please, my nephews read my blog and my bhabhi thinks that I am not a good influence on them) to help me whiz past the security check (this is the International Airport, in case you have forgotten).
Friday, 7:50 AM: I reach the security check to find that there is a serpentine queue which I have to traverse. My attempts to slide past the Indians, Mexicans, Australians in the queue prove futile. My escort fidgets with her fingernails, her threaded eyerbrows glistening with sweat which also causes her rouge to peel off. I ask her to throw her weight around, she throws a look of unbelievable scorn at me, challenging me to point out any weight at all on her carefully crafted waif-like figure.
Friday, 7:52 AM: The escort walks off in a huff after having babbled incomprehensible directions about walking down an invisible escalator and moving towards a certain mystical 'Gate Number 4' to encounter a mythical 'Air India person' after my security check is over. The Mexican and the Australian try to suppress their chortle, while the Indians openly cackle.
Friday, 7:57 AM: EIGHTEEN MINUTES LEFT FOR THE FLIGHT TO TAKE OFF, AND MY HAND BAGGAGE IS PULLED UP DUE TO A SUSPICIOUS OBJECT SUPPOSEDLY CONTAINED THEREIN. I AM ASKED TO STEP OUT OF THE LINE AND OPEN MY BAG. THREE BURLY GUARDS TOWER OVER ME. I MEEKLY ASK THE GUY AT THE INSPECTION MACHINE TO TELL ME WHAT THE SUSPICIOUS OBJECT IS.... HE DOES NOT REMEMBER.... HE STARTS GOING BACK ONE-BY-ONE THROUGH THE IMAGES OF THE BAGGAGES SCANNED TO REACH THAT OF MY BAG.... I RACE MY BRAINS... "SHAVING FOAM??", I BLURT OUT.... "YES," HE SCREAMS.
Friday, 8:00 AM: I try to convince the security check platoon that I only resemble a terrorist, and perhaps am named like one, but I can be trusted with not blowing the AI-E348 routed for Mumbai-Delhi-Shanghai with a can of Nivea Shaving Foam with Moisturisers (20% Extra Free). I also remind them of my departure time, which has as much effect on them as the culpable Foam has on my recalcitrant stubble. They eventually give in. My pulmonary respiration resumes.
Friday, 8:02 AM: I am racing down the escalator which the escort fairy mentioned and which has materialised out of thin air... Gate Number 4 comes into my line of sight... the ominous Air India person jumps out from behind a screen and tries to shove me down another escalator which leads to the boarding bus that is waiting for me.... the bus driver thumps on a knob which opens the bus doors... my head is swimming and I can feel the ground swaying beneath me as I rush forward waiting to be sucked inside the bus by an intergalactic force....
Friday, 8:10 AM: I am on my seat inside the plane.... coiled up and clutching the armrests, afraid that I will still be yanked and thrown out of the plane.... the auto driver, the check-in executive, the escort, the security guys, the Air India person, are all floating in my peripheral vision and reaching out to get meeeeee.....
... to be continued.