The Balancing Act

“Thank you so much” I said as the guy at the payment counter of the Bombay store at Hyderabad airport handed over to me my latest “impulse purchase” – a leather handbag, more like a shoulder one actually with Kashmiri work at its bottom. Well, I call it an impulse purchase because I am a compulsive shopper and couldn’t wait to get to Delhi to shop. Besides Preity Zinta flaunted something similar in Kal Ho Na Ho…

I was still getting my new possession in place and my debit card in the safety of my wallet while the guy at the counter who seemed to be in a hurry as he was dealing with two customers at the same time – me and a finely dressed young gentleman standing next to me when he mistakenly addressed him as ‘Ma’am’ while handing over his purchase to him and said ‘here’s your bag Ma’am’.

Naturally, I wanted to laugh out loudly but the fetters of age, decency and maturity (more pronounced in the case of a girl) allowed me just a muffled giggle.

Little did I know that the finely dressed man was just going to eschew his own impression of ‘being a fine young gentleman’ with his next words. “I can see that this lady here seemed to have got you a little mesmerized, but that doesn’t mean you are going to address everyone as ma’am” he said alternating his glances between me and the guy at the counter and smirking all this while. I could hear a mirror break…the pieces scattered right at his feet. What a desperate attempt and actually what a pity!

Smart Alec…I thought to myself! Not really the kind of guys I like to talk to. I managed a forced smile and we parted. But don’t worry he’s not the ‘Hero’ of my story. My heroes are humble…they are simple…they are real and they are special.

I waited a while in the waiting area and forced half a Mc Chicken from Mc Donalds into my tummy and threw the rest. God knows why I bought it in the first place. I think it has something to do with my nationality. Mine is probably the only country where people eat because they are somewhere out and not because they are hungry…It’s more like… ‘bhai bahar aaye hain…toh kuch toh kha le’…


I boarded the flight and had an aisle seat. People don’t prefer aisle seats but I really like them. For some reason, every time I have got a window seat, it’s been right above the wing…so boom go your chances of beautiful views and two- three hours of making imaginary creatures out of the clouds. So aisle seats totally work for me. Besides all I do while I’m on an aircraft is sleep. It’s like magic – pure, undisturbed, deep slumber….almost like a coma. Flights do that to me and I love it. Just in case I can’t get to sleep, I talk to random people. Did I mention that the only time I don’t talk is when I’m asleep…So, here I was all set for my short term come when…. “waaaaaa…waaaaa”


Hmpf! Hmpf! Hmp! Now, I’m not a child hater. I’m a woman and I do have innate maternal instincts but something that comes more naturally is sleep. I would say nature overpowers instincts. And so, I hated that kid at that moment. I think everyone was irritated with that kid at that point and still trying to keep up an encouraging smile towards each other and specially the kid’s parents. Like I mentioned earlier - the fetters of age, decency and maturity ultimately take over. My brains’s army was getting into action. Enemy location – it shouted out. I glanced left and then right. There …there he was….and as much as I wanted to say to its mother – Can you please make that kid of your shut the fuck up!....all I managed was a sympathetic understanding smile which she must have translated in words as “ I know ..I know what it means to manage a kid…especially in flights…after all I’m a mother of four” but honestly the real translation was – ‘Damn it! Couple of years and I’ll be in her shoes and somebody else would be calling my kid stupid and praying that it shut up’. That’s mean – I concluded and hence the smile.

‘What is the capital of Meghalaya?’

‘Shillong’!

‘What is the capital of Nagaland?’

‘Kohima’

And this must have continued for another five minutes when I could no longer hold back my urge to stare at the people sitting next to me. The kid was brilliant – I thought to myself. I mean, I wasn’t like this when I was his age. I’m sure if I’m asked to spell out the north eastern states of India, I’ll still miss one of them. In fact, when someone asks me about the North East, the first thing that’ll come to my mind are chinkies, straight hair, smart clothes, noodles, guitar, drugs, greenery and my stay in Arunanchal Pradesh. And instead of answering what I know about the North East, I’ll deviate and break a discussion around how nice my stay in Arunanchal was. But that’s me. And this kid was not me. He knew everything by heart. The seven sisters…capitals..rivers..surrouding areas..mountain ranges….z z z z z z z z z….That’s enough…nature finally did get the better of me.

Just about half an hour before the flight landed, I woke up and looked at my watch.

“Damn! I’m up early! What the hell will I do?” I thought

“TALK” the answer was simple.

My neighbours were still at it – the question answer game. Sitting next to me was a middle aged man who must be in his late forties though I thought he looked older. The kid sitting on the window seat seemed small – I thought he must be in 2^nd or 3^rd (given his knowledge). But the man I presumed would be his uncle or someone older – he looked to old to be a father of such a young kid. Well, you see my dad was a dashing and a handsome young man in uniform with a super fit body when I was that small –he still is minus the super fitness (Another thought that was playing in my head was and I’m not particularly proud of this one – Has he kidnapped this kid and that’s why he’s keeping him busy with color books coz he’s definitely not his father? :P)

‘Papa, can I get some juice?’ said the kid. Alright so you are son and father…

Satisfied with his juice, the kid went on to reading the spice route magazine (at that age, I only read pictures…no words) and asked his father how an airplane works. He wanted to know the dynamics! But that’s not the shocker. The shocker was that the father began to explain the dynamics using some terms which I identified I didn’t quite understand even when Mrs. Veena Dhawan, my physics teacher in 10^th tried to make me understand.

The next few minutes the father questioned his son on world geography and trust me this kid knew more than I do even today at my age. I couldn’t hold myself back.

‘How old is he? Which class is he in?’ I asked his father.

‘He’s 6 years old…in 1^st standard’ he replied.

‘I can swear, I wasn’t that intelligent when I was his age’ I said smiling genuinely at that kid.

The father smiled…I’m sure with pride an added ‘He’s been like this you know…very inquisitive about everything...loves reading and we just help him’.

‘That’s nice to know’ I said and then just kept quiet. Usually, with men, I only say a couple of words. They do the rest.

‘So what do you do? Are you studying?’ he asked

YAYEEE, BROWNIE POINTS UNCLE…gushing with happiness inside…coz it clearly meant I didn’t look 24 ;)

I replied in a modest humble tone ‘Oh no, I’m a post graduate and have been working for the past 1.5 years as a consultant with Deloitte’

‘Very nice, keep it up. That’s an audit firm, right?’ he said

‘Yes, but I’m a part of the consulting function’ I said

Completely ignoring my last statement, uncle said ‘do you know what audit firms do?’ and before I could reply, he started explaining what audit means and the next five minutes were spent on that and his interactions with my firm. I chose to listen politely.

‘Very nice company’ he concluded.

He spoke a lot to me from – my schooling to how being an Army kid is good and its disadvantages too, from my education to how Delhi has changed in the past couple of years. He seemed particularly cheerful and positive when he spoke of Delhi. Even though I have been born and brought up in Northern India, I do have South Indian loyalties. For some reason, I just like South more than North now. Anyways, he had to be, I presumed, a Delhi-ite as they are called.

And so ‘Uncle, what do you do?’ I asked him.

‘I’m a doctor’ he replied.

‘And you’re based out of Hyderabad, is it?’ I asked

‘Oh no...no. It’s my child, he said looking at his son and giving him a reassuring smile and getting one right back from him. He has a medical condition, something in his left eye. So I need to take him to L.V.Prasad hospital in Hyderabad for a treatment every three months. They have the best eye doctors you see’.

It took me a minute to gather myself. The child seemed perfect…he couldn’t have had any medical condition for heaven’s sake. It’s not correct God! He’s six for crying out loud.

Like I said I’m not a child hater and at this point I did have to hold myself back from taking the kid right into my arms and kissing him on the forehead – maybe just to reassure and pray to God to cure him as early as possible.

‘Aah…oh..ok’ I managed to say and then looked at the kid ‘You’re a very intelligent boy, you know. What’s your name?’

‘Supratim’ he said shyly

‘Supratim? That’s it? Is that all? Supratim what’? said his father with a smile ofcourse.

‘Supratim Mehta’ said the kid.

‘That’s a nice name’ I said and started searching my handbag just in case I could find a toffee somewhere in my bag. I usually do have them. But today was different. Yes, it was different. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have toffees today Supratim’ I said

‘It’s ok, no problem’ he smiled and so did his dad. A smile that said - 'yes, my life's a struggle but that's no reason for me not to smile or live my life to the fullest.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. I was thinking…and thinking hard. It’s not fair for a little kid to have to deal with such troubles so early in his life. But maybe this is what god’s idea of fairness is. Life averages everything. Somewhere you have plenty, in other aspects you’re a pauper. You win some…you lose some…

The flight landed. ‘It was nice meeting you Uncle’ I said and bade a final goodbye to Supratim.

P.S –Waiting for my luggage, I did notice, while everybody else was busy in looking either bored or getting ready to put on their pretentious demeanors right before stepping out into Delhi, Supratim was busy examining the conveyor belt, its plates and its motion.