Off The Cuff: A wry look at life

Given a choice I wouldn't have flown on September 11, but it was one of those junkets to an exotic destination that I'd never been to before. Besides, there were others from the media and so, what the Dickens, I might as well go. After all I was promised a fun-filled holiday.

But others didn't think so. Have you gone off your rocker to fly on September 11 and with the U.S threat looming large in this part of the world, interrogated my sister, anxiety writ large on her face.

I hemmed and hawed and said I'd think about it seriously. "You better," she admonished, typical of an elder sister who loves bossing all and sundry.

When I spoke to my mother in India, I casually mentioned that I'd be visiting Sharm El Sheikh. She wondered aloud what that was. So I gave her a short geography lesson. "Is that going to be soon," she asked. "Yes on the 11th," I stated matter of factly. The simple statement had the impact of a bombshell.

"September 11. You're not kidding". "I am serious" I returned. "Good Heavens. Please don't. Forget the trip. No, no don't.....I mean its risky. Son, you better listen," she almost choked.

I tried pacifying her with some rational explanations but it didn't work. I realised my telephone meter was happily ticking away and decided to sign off by assuring her that I'd call of the trip.

"Please, any other day is fine but not September 11 son, god bless," she persisted as we wished each other goodbye.

My colleagues in the office were morbidly cynical. "September 11. Hey we'll watch CNN or BBC to see your plane coming down," smirked one. "Looks like you are heading for martyrdom. Wonder what compensation the airlines will pay," sniggered another.

"Have you taken a huge insurance policy. If you haven't do it," teased yet another.

It never stopped. While one firmly believed I already had butterflies in my stomach, another wondered if some award would be given by airlines to all the brave souls who flew on that day.

The newspapers were replete with stories about the first anniversary of September 11 and so were the television news bulletins. While some reports said many people were cancelling their bookings, others quoted airline officials saying flights were full.

I took all comments in my stride. It was time to make public my gut feeling. September 11 would be the safest day to fly, I declared loud and clear. Security is going to be tighter than ever and therefore no one would dare try anything on such days, I rationalised.

"Self-consoling words," laughed one of my friends. "False bravado," guffawed another. I couldn't care less.

When D-Day arrived, I woke up bright and early, took my bags and headed for the airport.

Everything seemed normal. We flew to Kuwait. Nothing unusual. From there we flew to Egypt. Once in Sharm Al Sheikh we forgot what day, date or month it was. There was peace, bliss. We had a swell time.

On our way back it was time to look back, that slight look behind the shoulder kind of thing. "So what was all the hype and fuss about September 11," began one of the ladies, the most vocal in our group.

"Oh, where did the bombs go," blurted another, adding "Who are the bravehearts and who are the cowards,"

Yes, something quite earth shattering happened on September 11, 01 but every day is not a sunday. Someone suggested "write a play". What shall we call it, we chorused and responded with how about "Comedy of (T)errrors" or "Much Ado About Nothing- Part II" or "Eleventh Night or what you will."

Shakespeare must be turning in his grave and lets just forget it. All's well that ends well, I concluded.