‘My Dystopian Flight from Ahmedabad to Delhi Amid COVID Pandemic’

Video Editor: Rahul Sanpui
Video Producer: Aastha Gulati

On 1 March, I had come to this small village called Kharoi in Kutch, Gujarat, for a three-week nature-cure treatment at Ananddham. I did hydrotherapy, mud-baths, fasting. Living in an 18-acre green space and yellow houses helped with more than the skin issue I went there for in the first place.

When we heard about the nationwide coronavirus lockdown in March, the owner of the property suggested I stay back. I decided to run an opinion poll with friends and family back home and it was a 100 percent 'Don’t come back to Delhi'.

So, I cancelled my train on 23 March, but the train never really arrived from Delhi, so I would have been stranded anyway!

The next two months were stress-free. There was no corona for miles around. Living in a ‘Green Zone’ is like living a normal life. While April and May went blissfully by, trains were not showing any signs of starting. I then booked a flight from Ahmedabad to Delhi on 10 June. That was the beginning of the downward slope.

I took a cab to the airport from Ananddham. The long, 5-hour journey was full of stories of what the driver saw in Ahmedabad, of the sick and dying having nowhere to go. This is where I took my gloves out – the paranoia had begun to set in.

Dystopian Travels

At the airport, air travel seemed to be nothing less than dystopian. The airport looked empty. We were only a few in a huge hall. The Japanese were trotting with elaborate body protectors and soon I was handed a desi version of the gear – face shield, et al.

My luggage got sprayed so carelessly that half the disinfectant fell on my white shirt.

I was asked to show my Aarogya Setu app from across the counter to a camera. The only thing familiar from the old days was the baggage x-ray.

I finally grinned watching the lady checking us at the security check in a funny white head gear that kept bobbing and falling. In that moment, it made everything okay.

Inside the airplane, alternate seats were marked with ‘X’. All passengers were silent, masked and gloved.

I wondered, is it safe to use the toilet? Did I touch my face or mouth before washing my hands?

We were a group of white mask, gloved individuals wrapped in shopping-bag plastic. Even the airhostesses wore the white wrap. It was the most silent, static flight.

No one stirred on the entire service-free flight. No one used the loo, no one spoke. But as we landed, something normal happened – the sound of simultaneous unclipping of the safety belt and standing up, even though it would be 15 minutes before the doors would open. People had to be reminded about social distancing.

All this while I was thinking, give me back my crowded airports with all their madness. This was eerie!

At the Delhi Airport, the whole process was repeated. Aarogya-check, body temperature-check and the baggage disinfecting before getting to the cab.

Around 24-hours later, Aarogya Setu declared me safe but somehow the fear of this tiny, unknown factor even in self-isolation has not gone. Will air travel ever be something to look forward to? For me, personally, I think not.

(The author is an Ayurvedic chef and writer. All 'My Report' branded stories are submitted by citizen journalists to The Quint. Though The Quint inquires into the claims/allegations from all parties before publishing, the report and the views expressed above are the citizen journalist's own. The Quint neither endorses, nor is responsible for the same.)