Chengiz Khan

Hitler

Emirates

Syria

Gujarati

Noah

South China Sea

Chhattrapati Shivaji

Iceland

AC

What transmutes us into a rule-obeying, civilised people the moment we land at a foreign airport?When you board an international flight from India, something akin to what’s Mongol invasions were like gets recreated. There’s shouting, there’s chaos, the feeling of being in World War II when’s army is about to invade; and all that’s happened is thathas announced boarding by category.Of course boarding by category suggests an order, a system, a certain politesse — something that is too insane an idea to follow, when the much better choice would be to run toward the plane as if it were the football in a game of American football and we were all quarterbacks. The airline staff’s efforts to impose a system are disregarded as if they were mannequins and not humans with feelings. Foreigners on the plane gulp, the pilot wishes he was flying some other route, even toWe rush to fill the overhead bins with all our life’s belongings so that when some passengers leisurely board late, they are greeted by a sight of someone’srelative stuffed between seven handbags, up there, saying ‘hello’. (Hey, if it’s cheaper than a seat, then why not?)We revel in ignoring the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign. We demand wheelchairs for people so athletic that they are on their way to the Rio Games. At least one child, if not many, thinks of the plane as a general playground. Many infants cry, many grownups cry. Some demand booze during the breakfast service, one uncle puts his leg on your lap as if your seat was an extension of his bed and steals your blanket. There’s snoring so loud that the pilot thinks it is thunder. There’s judging of your movie choice followed by terribly personal questions that start with “Where you are flying to?” (in case the destination on the boarding pass is an elaborate prank), and end with “How much money you have in the bank?” with specific account number queries and the life choices you made to get to such a low number.Quite a few find the area near the toilets to be ideal setting for settling lifelong family disputes or entering new business alliances, finding it unnecessary to note that it is a passageway for airhostesses to work. Not to mention the ones who spend the entire flight in the toilet, making it their seat.I haven’t been on’s Arc but once I’ve flown on any economy flight anywhere international, I think I get the vibe.Yet these same people who may appear rude, non-followers of rules — the moment we cross the Arabian Sea or theand land in a place that’s foreign, these same people transform into the most docile followers of that foreign country’s rules. Almost as if the mad, loud, drunk, intrusive, personal space-ignoring, toilet-hoarding, air hostess-rude, blanket-stealing snorer uncle was a different person from a long time ago, not the guy from two hours ago atThere’s no shouting at immigration to say, “Why is your line so long? Who is in charge?” There’s no breaking the line with shouts of “Shailesh, Shailesh! Arre, I am with him”. There’s no random throwing of plastic garbage anywhere as if the whole nation were a dustbin. There’s respect, there’s appreciation of rules, there’s order. People follow signs and quietly queue. Such a dramatic transformation in a people, as seen in us from our local airports to foreign ones, hasn’t been seen since man evolved from walking on all fours to two legs, orstarted winning games at Euro 2016 football.I’m not sure how or why it happens. Perhaps our DNA mutates at 40,000 feet in the air. Perhaps seeing a clean, orderly, systematic nation where everyone else follows rules makes us do the same. Perhaps it is the unknown, new environment. Perhaps we take that place less for granted as we do our home. Whatever it is, a different ethic overtakes us, indicating we can become as disciplined as Germans when need be.On the same flight back, I noticed, the moment it said 40 minutes to landing in Mumbai, the madness started again: the running around, the reckless, unnecessary removal of random luggage like it was an3 tier, the unmotivated, unprovoked crying of children. Clearly, our misbehaviour and home are connected.