THE FLIGHT BACK HOME

“So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone…...”

-Galatians 6:10

 

It was an hour since the Air India Boeing 777 made a touchdown in the San Francisco Airport. The Aircraft had been vacated and the crew stood on the tarmac while a PPE clad maintenance crew fumigated and sanitized the plane. In normal times, the crew would have gone to the terminal and taken a break and refreshed by the time the aircraft was being readied for the return flight. But this time it was different…this was the first repatriation flight flying out of L.A. since the COVID19 outbreak began a couple of months ago. The crew too was in PPE as they boarded back the aircraft once the maintenance crew gave a thumbs-up sign.

Kabeer sat in the cockpit munching a Snickers and sipping some coconut water trying to soak up calories for the long flight back to Mumbai. He could see on his screen, the passengers, all clad in PPE slowly board the flight to gingerly take their seats one by one.

Not that the ex-Airforce Veteran Wing Commander Kabeer Ahmed had not been in VUCA (volatility, uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity) situations before. In fact, he had been awarded the Vir Chakra, India’s third highest gallantry award during the Kargil War.

But today was different. Dealing with soldiers in war-like situations was something else. Here they were all civilians- old folks, women, children….and this VUCA was also very different. Since his retirement from the IAF in 2010, he had been flying for Air India for a decade now and was due to retire from here too, towards the end of the year- on 30th Nov 2020 to be precise. The COVID situation was un-precedented anywhere in the world and Air India had started flying its “Vande Bharat” or repatriation flights to get back Indians struck in foreign lands due to the suspension of all air travel due to the pandemic starting 7th May 2020. This flight was the first one out of the US -from San Francisco to Mumbai.

His chain of thoughts was broken when the head flight purser, Damayanti Mishra knocked at the cockpit door and informed him that all passengers had boarded and they were ready to go. Alfred smiled and nodded back to her and turned and spoke to Ravish, his co-pilot “So, shall we get going then?”. Ravish gave a thumbs up signal as they switched on the engines and the turbines began whining.

Soon the jet liner was on, the taxiway with its large twin engines roaring and once the ATC gave the go-ahead, took off un-eventfully on the long journey over the Pacific and Indian Oceans back to India.

“This is your Captain-Kabeer Ahmed. Welcome to Air India Vande Bharat Flight No AI 174 from San Francisco to Mumbai. Our journey will take all of 21 hours and let me assure you that you have the finest crew of Air India serving you to make your journey safe and comfortable. Hope all of you are keeping fine. I know these are un-precedented times and we are indeed privileged to be able facilitate you to get back to your loved ones. Enjoy the flight. Jai Hind!”

It was a long and boring flight, largely over the Pacific. They were about three and a half hours in flight now and cruising smoothly. There was a knock at the cockpit door, it was Damayanti. She looked a little flustered and blurted “Captain, need help. We have a situation on the flight….with the passenger in Seat 23B to be precise.” Kabeer took the manifest from Damayanti and scrolled down the passenger names…the passenger on seat 23B was Murtaza Hassan, Male-55. Kabeer motioned to Ravish to man the cockpit and accompanied Damayanti down the aisle.

There indeed was a commotion. About four passengers were having a heated argument with the passenger on Seat 23B and an Air Hostess who was unsuccessfully trying to calm the frayed nerves.

“Hello Gentlemen! Calm down. I’m the Captain here…this is no way to behave and you are all endangering this flight” said Kabeer crisply. “We are not endangering this flight..he is” said the fat lady passenger on Seat 23C accusingly. “First, he takes off his mask and coughs… and now he’s saying something which sounded Arabic and very suspicious. We must search him and hold him in custody…I feel he’s some kind of a terrorist” added the Sikh.

“Nobody will do any such thing…and Mr Hassan what were you saying? “ asked Kabeer. “I’m highly asthmatic and I find it a problem to wear the mask for long. I am flying to India as my mother is on her death bed..was just saying a small prayer to ease her suffering and I’m no terrorist…you can search me if you want to” said Hassan in a scared voice, unable to control the tears tumbling out of his eyes. “All these Muslims are the same…. Don’t trust them Captain. Please have this man restrained” shouted another passenger.

Kabeer could take no more of it. “For your kind information I am a Muslim too and I’m flying you all back home. Do you also know that I was in the Indian Airforce before this and am a Vir Chakra awardee. I will tolerate no more of this rabble and order you all to go back to your seats or else I will be forced to land at the nearest airport and hand you all over to the cops for putting this flight at risk” he said in a no nonsense tone. The passengers reluctantly slunk back to their seats with a sheepish look on their faces..muttering to themselves.

“Damayanti..why don’t you shift Mr Hassan to the front row reserved for crew..I think one seat is vacant..that way no one should have an issue” said Kabeer. Hassan looked visibly relieved and mumbled a thank you to Kabeer clutching his hand.

*****

Kabeer was running a mild fever and Ayesha, his 21-year-old daughter was at the back seat of his car as he sped through the empty streets of Delhi from their house in Defence Colony to the Army Base Hospital in Delhi Cantonment. Ayesha had a small oxygen cylinder strapped on with a respirator fitted on her face through which she was noisily breathing. It was late in the night and by the time they reached near the Base Hospital…Kabeer spotted a long line of cars stretching right up to Baird Place, almost a mile from the Hospital gate. A few harried looking Military Police personnel were trying to restore some order.

Kabeer got down to find out what exactly was happening. The nearest MP Sergeant told him that there were a lot of people ahead of him waiting for admission at the BH and for now the hospital was screening and admitting only the sickest of patients as they had run out of beds. “Sir, you will have to wait for your turn” harangued the Sergeant as he walked away.

A sinking feeling descended into Kabeer. “Ayesha is all I have. I cannot lose her” he thought in panic. His wife Fatima has tragically passed in a hit and run case while she was crossing the road near their house 5 years ago…Kabeer was still tirelessly following up with the cops and also the court case to bring the two then underage drunken brats who had so callously taken away his beloved Fatima from him. His frantic calls to some of his juniors in the Air Force who were senior officers now seemed to be of no avail as the Hospital seemed overwhelmed.

Kabeer had retired from Air India for 5 months now and had just started enjoying his retired life..spending a little more time with Ayesha, his only daughter and catching up on Golf with friends. But the second and devastating wave of COVID had struck again and the last 10 days or so had thrown the complete medical support system in the country in general and in Delhi in particular, into a complete shemozzle.

He put SOS messages on the various WhatsApp groups he was in and also on his FB page requesting desperately for an oxygen bed for his daughter. He ten frantically dialed a number on his mobile..a last-ditch effort “Hello Ahlu..can you hear me. Ayesha is in a mess and I too have fever. BH is completely overwhelmed. Need to get Ayesha to a hospital fast..any ideas Bro” he said amidst a bout of cough. Daljit Ahluwalia a.k.a Ahlu was his batchmate and fellow pilot from the Airforce days and his best friend. He was the quintessential jugaadu Punjabi from North Delhi and had joined his family business a few years back after retiring from the Air force. If anyone could conjure help in Delhi…it was Ahlu.

“Kabeer…honestly things are really really bad… just give me some time and let me work out something. Don’t worry we’ll make sure nothing happens either to you or Ayesha” said Ahlu. True to his reputation..Ahlu contacted a Sikh charity which was running a makeshift hospital for COVID care in Punjabi Bagh and was able to manage a single oxygen equipped bed. By the time Kabeer was able to secure the bed and admit Ayesha it was almost morning. His fever too had shot up and he was feeling very weak- though his oxygen levels were still okay. The doctor at the facility admitted Kabeer in the non-oxygen enabled section and he slept fitfully.

It must have been noon when someone shook him awake. It was a male paramedic. “Sir, is Ayesha your daughter?” he asked. Kabeer nodded. “Sir, her lungs are infected. You need to move her to an ICU..we will not be able to manage here anymore” he added shaking his head hopelessly. “We can manage for a few hours at best…I’m sorry”

The sinking feeling was back as he called up Ahlu again and also dropped another SOS message in all his WhatsApp Groups. Alhu promised to do his best. An agonizing 3 hours passed without any luck and Ayesha seemed to be getting worse..though he miraculously was not still that bad.

His mobile rang and the call was from an unknown number. He anyhow picked up the call and mumbled a feeble “Hello!”. “Is this Mr. Kabeer Ahmed?” said the voice from the other end. “Yes, speaking. ..who’s this please?” said Kabeer. “Sir, I’m calling from Minerva Hospital Gurgaon..I believe you were looking for an ICU bed.” Said the caller. Kabeer couldn’t believe his ears. Must be dear old Ahlu’s magic at work again he thought…..

Things happened in a tizzy after that. The caller took down his location and an ICU ambulance (which too was not available so easily in Delhi at that point of time) fetched up and moved both Ayesha and him to Minerva Hospital, a swanky corporate hospital where they were put up in a separate room equipped with a ventilator and adequate oxygen. He messaged a thank you with folded hands emoji to Ahluwalia for his efforts and largesse…and tried calling him. But for some reason the latter did not pick up the phone.

It was a week by the time Ayesha was out of danger and another three days that he tested negative. Ayesha too was good enough to be discharged a week after that. The staff at the hospital had really taken care of them and surprisingly did not ask for any advance payments etc. as was usually the norm with private hospitals. Ahlu too was for some reason not reachable for all this while.

Finally, the day dawned for them to leave back for home. Kabeer tried Ahluwalia’s number yet again. This time he picked up. Ahlu’s voice sounded weak and hoarse. “what happened to you..have been trying to call you” said Kabeer. “Sorry, paaji I too went down with COVID and only just recovering. Had got admitted in Chandigarh as no beds were available in NCR. Still there, but getting better. Aur bata..how are you and Ayesha? Hope all is well”. “Yes Ahlu, by God’s grace and thanks to you both of us got excellent medical treatment at Minerva Hospital and managed to get out of COVID in one piece”

“Why are you thanking me for…I did nothing, I myself was quite sick..” said Ahlu sounding puzzled. “Really? Wasn’t it you who got us admitted here..and if it was not you then who was the good Samaritan who helped us?” said an equally puzzled Kabeer. “Don’t know bro. Anyways what is important is that both of you are okay” said Ahluwalia before disconnecting.

Kabeer paid off the bills, which he found very reasonable for a hospital of this stature and also during this time when he heard that most private hospitals were making a killing by surging their rates…..preying on the panic in the populace. As he and Ayesha turned to leave, a young customer care executive walked up to him and wished him a good morning. “Sir, hope you had a pleasant stay and are feeling fine now” said the young man. “Yes of course..thanks to you all and the wonderful doctors here” said Kabeer beaming a smile.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, our director would like to meet you briefly “said the young man. Kabeer gave him a puzzled look “The Director….sure” and followed the executive to what looked like a conference room, wondering as to why the hospital Director wanted to meet him. The executive pushed open the door and he and Ayesha moved into the room. There was only one person in the room- a tall man with a grey beard in a Doctor’s while coat. Though he looked vaguely familiar, Kabeer could not recognize him.

“Kabeer Sir how are you...hope you and the young lady are fine” said the man flashing a smile. Kabeer’s mind was now able to rewind and place him now-of course he was Murtaza Hassan- from the Vande Bharat flight!

 “I got a forward on my AIIMS Alumni WhatsApp group..basically your SOS message and then thankfully we were able to trace you and Ayesha on time” said Dr Hassan. “How can I ever thank you Sir…we are indebted forever to you” blurted Kabeer..tears welling in his eyes.

“Sir, I should be the one thanking you..for what you did..standing up for me on the flight and for the other passengers by risking your life flying us back from the US. It was thanks to you, I was able to see my mother one last time and do her last rites…. And of course, we as a hospital are indeed privileged to do something for a decorated war hero- this is the least we could do to say thank you- making sure you head safely back home”