Three Black Spots

Dum Maro Dum

In the 70’s Dev Anand and Zeenat Aman made a bell bottomed Bollywood blockbuster set in Nepal. The title song was ‘Dum Maro Dum’ – a paean to Nepali green. We all had fantasies about Nepal, home of Mount Everest and poppy fields. Kathmandu was like Xanadu, favorite destination for hippies from the West, and casino seeking businessmen from Delhi.

I had just returned to Bombay, Mina was still in New York, and Yoda was very glad to see me. I decided to take him with me to Kathmandu for a business meeting. I bravely told our travel agent that if he could not go, then neither would I. Good news. Nepal had no quarantine, the airline accepted dogs in the cabin . Bad news the hotels did not, good news my colleague Padam invited us to stay in his home.

Royal Nepal is a whimsical airline. They handle flight information like state secrets, and passengers are not on the need to know list. Padam had an old classmate who worked in the control tower at the airport. He would call Padam the moment the plane took off from Kathmandu. Padam would call me, and I would set off for the airport. It was like the samizdat, our own private information channel.

The plane left Bombay at around midnight, four hours late. So, who was counting? Yoda was at my feet, no one was sitting beside me, I had eaten well, and the plane was on its descent approach. The pilot made a terse announcement. ‘There is fog at the airport, and no visibility. We are being diverted to Delhi’. My only reaction was- at least it’s not Calcutta.

Yoda was fast asleep, and content to leave matters in my hand. I began a gentle inquisition of the flight attendant. How long did she think we would wait in Delhi? Till the fog lifted. When would that be? Not before 9 the next morning. What would we do till then? Wait in the lounge. What would they do? Go to a hotel. What would I do about my dog? No reply.

The lounge at Delhi was overflowing with people. Jayanand who was traveling with us fought his way to a couple of seats and corralled them. Yoda woke up, took in his surroundings and decided he was best off asleep in his bag.

Everyone made a dash for the café in the lounge. We managed to get a couple of tandoori chicken sandwiches, Jayanand washed all the masala off for Yoda, we got a couple of bottles of water, and were all set. Yoda woke up, got fed, got walked, and seemed in far better shape than we were. He was in CEO mode, he had delegated to me the task of getting us to Kathmandu, and he was not going to micromanage.

The next morning, a planeload of hungry people boarded. We were promised a piping hot breakfast. We sat on board for a while, and I overheard the captain mention that the fuelling trucks had not yet come. The airline was behind on its payments, and they were negotiating another extension of credit.

Strange and wild thoughts go through your head at times like this. Do you take up a collection? How much would fuel cost to fly to Kathmandu? Should I feign a heart attack, so that they would have to offload me? Would they allow Yoda to disembark?

I suggested to the purser that the natives were getting restless, and could they serve us breakfast before take-off. It would buy them at least 45 minutes of peace. The captain agreed and soon we all had piping hot trays. I began scarfing down my omelet, when without any notice or announcement, the engines started up, we sped up to the end of the runway, made a wheelie, and took off. I had to assume that we had refueled. Optimism is always necessary. We got to Kathmandu about sixteen hours after we left Bombay. I could have flown to New York in that time, but I would have missed all the drama.

That night, Yoda discovered sweet corn soup, and he loved it. Was it the primordial taste memory of Chinese food? He even drank it slightly warm, something he never does with other food. Was it fortification against the cold temperatures in Kathmandu? He licked his chops, searched out each kernel of sweet corn, and chowed it down. Did he know that Tibet and China were just a hop skip and jump away?

On our way back, Royal Nepal cancelled all its flights to Bombay. I think they knew I would be traveling. Padam’s airport friend managed to get us the last two seats to Delhi, Yoda flew for the first time in the back of the bus, and soon after take off fell in love with a flight attendant and nestled on her shoulder all the way back. The pooch always manages to travel first class!

When I got back to Bombay everyone at the office asked me if I had fun in Kathmandu. It must have been so peaceful, so relaxing. I winked, mimed inhaling, and whispered ‘ Dum maro Dum’. I wish.