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The traveling hugger... (Part 5)

The same night I was taking the plane to Mumbai. At the check-in desk, the SpiceJet guy told me that I should probably check in my hugger but seeing me pouting, he offered to let me try my luck at the security check... 


At the security check, one of the military woman – women have separate lines in India – asked me what it was. I explained but she was not keen on letting it go as hand baggage: she wanted me to check it in. Except that it was 9 PM, I was super pukish, I had no baggage checked in and I certainly didn’t have 20 minutes to waste waiting at the belt in Mumbai at 11 PM... 


One of her girlfriends seemed to take pity in me and asked her male colleagues, sitting around the next X-ray machine, for opinion. They immediately recognized the hugger and agreed to let me carry it! (My smile was doing wonders that day ;) ) But my military woman would not hear anything and refused to stamp the tag. The brave woman who had decided to help me took my hugger and got its tag stamped by the military guys and voilà! For once I was glad men trump women in this country! 


When I arrived on the plane, the hugger would not fit in the luggage trunk, and it bothered me the whole way at my feet – this shit had started to really annoy me now...! 


And now I had to courier this thing! 


(To be continued)


Taking off from Mumbai



The challenge when ypi live in India is to find a meaning to the multitude of inconsistencies you encounter every day. There are times when there is one (meaning) and there are times when there is none. At least it keeps your (Cartesian) mind busy.

And to illustrate this powerful thought, one example: after landing at Jaipur the front passengers disembark with a gateway, and those in the rear with a bus. Try and understand...