The scent of an Indian flight attendant aka the air-hostess: Gliding through a moving aircraft on high heels,pandering to a demanding child,lifting heavy luggage and putting them on the overhead bin,catering to a physically challenged passenger,pacifying the all-equipped but nevertheless irate passenger, turning a blind eye to ogling passengers, slapping on the warpaint and doing the perfect hair every morning,dumbing down and cowering down everyday to serve food and beverages to the hoi polloi,coaxing crying women to tear off from their husbands/significant others into the aircraft-she always has a kind word for all and sundry.There’s something about her that makes even the gutsy, care-for-nothing-not-even-our-own-lives pilots to say “Baby be mine”.
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton
AninditaRoyMusings 