I landed in Mumbai early on Friday. The city makes a terrible first impression. As your aircraft is about to land, it feels like it will crash into a huge slum; yet, somehow, a landing strip emerges. There was a first-time flyer seated next to me, a scrawny guy probably headed to the Gulf, to work 14 hours and send money home. In full sleeves, blue denim trousers with some embroidery, neatly polished pointy black leather shoes and his backpack secured between his legs, he wanted to capture the landing, may be record evidence of his maiden flight. The guy’s arm suddenly jutted out towards the window from his middle seat — to record, of course. I was a bit taken aback. Sadly, his Chinese smartphone’s camera could focus only on the scratches on the window. I empathised with him enough to forgive his crude behaviour — I was, after all, a first-time flyer not so long ago. So, I asked for his phone, to record a better video. He was thankful — perhaps too innocent for fancy concepts like civic sense.

But this is column material, I muttered to myself, and let it play out — just a small inconvenience for print........

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