Surveyophobia

It is Monday and every moment feels like you’ve stepped on doggy-do while jogging. It has happened. I am horribly late for my flight. The cabbie tries to soothe my nerves and announces that for an extra tip he will take me to the airport in record time. He weaves through the traffic and turns up the volume of the radio. Himesh Reshmaiyya’s song is blaring on the FM channel. The cabbie waits like a child trying to join friends who are skipping rope. Unsure of where he will join the song. He tries to copy the master’s own sound in some spots but the lyrics move too rapidly for him. He waits till Himesh sings the bit that all of us wait for, “eNk baaNr aaNja aaNja aaNja aaNja aaaNja aaNja aaaN”.

That gives us all a chance to sing. Happy that he sang the only part of the lyrics that he could decipher my cabbie shifts to digging his nose while holding the steering wheel with the other. I gently remind him that he needs to drive faster. He ignores me. He has just struck gold in his nose which he retrieves delicately and flicks it out of the window carelessly while looking away. After an endless stream of nasal products – no not the song, the other stuff, I am finally dropped off at the airport.

I tell the girl at the counter that I am really keen on catching the flight. The girl shakes her head with a stubbornness that only comes from a belief that latecomers ought to rot in hell. I plead. She relents and passes me on to a rather ummm… healthy matronly woman called Kokila to escort me to the aircraft. She starts running without any warning and huffs under her breath into the walkie-talkie, “Hold on… passenger… on … thuh … wayhh”. The cop who is frisking me at the security check gives me disapproving looks. I step into the aircraft as they start pulling back the ladder from the aircraft and shutting the door. The passengers are all giving me abusive looks. I give a generic shrug of apology for all to help themselves to. I settle down in my chair. The stewardess is called Janifer (I thought it was misspelt, but no)gives me a big smile. I am already in love with her. I smile back. That was all that she was waiting for. She walks up to me and hands over a form that says – ‘Your Opinion Matters (YOM)’. “This is a survey about our check in and ground staff services. Kokila insists that you fill this and pass it to me.” “May I have some candy and the welcome drink, please?” Janifer is unmoved by my breathless speech. “Not until you have filled up the form Sir. Nobody fills these forms later. Poor Kokila. She must have escorted seven passengers to this aircraft. Not one has filled up her form.” I fill in the form and make a special mention of Kokila. Janifer looks the form from the corner of her eye and hands me another form to fill. I tell her I have made a special mention of Kokila. “This is to rate the quality of the announcements made by the Captain. His name is Capt Sohail. Please mention him by name when you rate him. He has never been recognized despite his really cute American accent. Everyone is waiting for you to complete the form so that we can take off. Please Sir… you are delaying all of us.” I wanted to point out that I had missed the announcements since I was late. But that was not necessary. So gave the Capt full marks for his diction, pre-take off announcements and filled in the columns on announcements made while landing at the destination. I did not want to be held back on the aircraft for leaving out this little bit. I tried to sleep. I feel the sleepiest just as the plane is gathering speed on the runway. Someone taps me with a sense of urgency. It is Janifer. I wake up with a start. “What’s the matter? Are we crash landing?” Janifer smiles sweetly and says, “Just wanted to know if you wanted the veg option or non-veg, Sir.” “Is there a third option called sleep-through-meals?” She is puzzled as she hands me another form, “But if you do not eat, how will you rate the quality of our food and the cabin service?” I understand my choices better now. “Is it OK if I fill up the form and skip the meals?” Janifer nods and says, “Remember my name is spelt differently. Last time Jennifer Bhalla got the Employee of the Month award.” I looked hard at the name tag and transcribed it alphabet by alphabet in the form and went back to sleep. “Sir, you did not give your opinion on the in-flight reading materials. The editor of our in-house magazine is Surabhi Jain. She is running one vote short of her award this month. Do you want to add her name or should I do it for you?”

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