Fun and Fiasco in the Sky

Recently, as fate would have it, I got to plan an aerial jaunt. Across the nations, over the seas and through the sky and all the way to the United Kingdom. I would like to think otherwise, but my sole reason of choosing PIA as my carrier for the journey was the fact that it is only one offering the very convenient, ( for me at least) Lahore – Manchester route; Manchester airport being nearer to North Wales, my final destination.

At the end of LHE-MAN leg of the journey, all willing passengers were handed small cards with request to jot down suggestions/complaints and ways ‘in which we can serve you better’, so to say. I promptly took one from the nice lady in uniform and smudged things which I considered awry on an international flight.

1. The back support of the seat I was sitting on didn’t offer any resistance. Its mechanism was clearly broken. The faux titanium button for reclining the back did nada. The lady occupying the seat besides me kept pushing my backrest forwards, hooking me in an acute angle over and over again.

2. The gent sitting in the seat next to me had a similar problem with his seat. He incidentally had a bad back, and carried a prescription orthopedic neck roll kind of a thing. He politely complained for a few times, and then asked for the head honcho for the passengers’ affairs. The sir in question appeared, and informed that the problem has been reported to him. He had checked the log, or repairs-to-be-done papers, and the seat in question had been mentioned therein. The ‘technical problem with the seat’ he said would be checked at Manchester airport and corrected, or might have to wait for a thorough service at Karachi. Indeed.

3. The audio feed in the headphones provided was akin a million killer bees buzzing their hearts out in unison. The bees buzzed for the whole eight odd hours of the journey. I thought I was hallucinating, so I inquired from the nice lady about the predicament. And she declared charm fully that yes; audio for all the channels was down. So for the better part of the journey, I basically gawked at the tacky LCD screen which I freed from its prostrated position under the seat.

4. Following the flight path via Atari-era graphics on the said LCD from Lahore to Manchester, isn’t what I would label as healthy ‘in-flight entertainment’

5. But then, maybe neither do the PIA folks. For they did hand over newspapers at the start of the journey, as an alternative source of ‘infotainment’. But reading the paper, while cramped in the Economy class hall, and fighting a broken chair is indeed a daunting task.


The journey to Manchester ended. We made a smooth landing. I spent a happy 50 days hollering around UK. I stayed in North Wales, and visited London and had a taste of Scotland while in Edinburgh. But, as they say, all good things have to end… and it was time to head back home.

I had a confirmed seat, with the number printed in bold. But I somehow had the feeling that when I would board the plane someone or other would surely be occupying my throne, grinning sheepishly. And exactly that happened. Albeit that instead of the smirk of a sheep, the lad displayed the placid calm of a well fed cat. Mr steward who was watching over the boarding process whispered that the lad in question had exchanged with me his seat because he wanted to sit with his family. Fair enough, I thought. I scampered over to the seat now allotted to me and settled in. I had no hand luggage with me so I helped a neighbor across the aisle fit his duffle in the cubby above my seat.

The plane started its somber trot across the many alleys to assume the position; poised for take off. Some minor jittering ensued, and the shelf above me slammed open. I looked up with some concern, and wished that the luggage wouldn’t jump out to embrace me. All crew members had by now buckled up, and the shelf was open for the period of take off. Presently, a male member of the crew slammed the lid shut.

A couple of hours into the flight, after some turbulence the shelf clammed open once again. I unbuckled my belt, requested the gent in the seat ahead to change his permanently reclined position for a while, handed my pillow and blanket to the floor and closed the chasm above once again.

Sometime later, lunch was served and cabin was dark. I had in the meantime drifted into dyspeptic slumber. Then, there was yet another thundering clap and the shelf was agaping once again. This time I buzzed for the ms stewardess and requested assistance. I also thought fitting to convey my displeasure about the notion of myself again going through the said ritual and closing the lid. She was courteous enough to totally reject my rhetoric with a coy smile, and head off to get a male member of the crew who could reach up and to do the job. She, however, appeared sometime later - sans male member of the staff - and of course requested me to for the last time close the lid. All male staff members were currently busy, she said. Making tea, are they? I inquired.

Calm reigned, though not for long. During yet another turbulent moment, the cabinet once again flew open. This time, finally the luggage was labeled was a ‘hazard’ for the passengers, and the owner was requested to remove the piece so that it could be stowed someplace else. Needles to say, I once again was part of the team that took out the bag and handed it over.

In flight entertainment on this flight was much better. However, I wonder why they can’t carry 10 hours worth of music/videos/dramas. Running the same programs twice in an 8 hour journey seems pathetic. It works fine for someone who dozes off for half the time, and then catches on the reruns. But for someone
who isn’t apt at sleeping, reruns can be dissatisfying.

But, the clichéd cherry on the top for this journey was still to come.

Some three hours remained, before we touched down at Lahore. Once again the cabin was dark and quiet. Suddenly, my olfactory nerve was stung by some very unholy aroma. I removed my earphones, and checked the surroundings. While I was carrying out the survey, some more people also reported the initially localized smell creeping all over the cabin. There was something burning, yes, the way plastic/rubber insulation burns. There were some frantic shouts and the lights of the cabin switched on. The crew jumped into action, and tried locating the problem.

Now, they say that ignorance is bliss. And, I DO consider myself blissful in many things, such as reinstalling Windows on my PC, for sake of conversation. But unfortunately one thing I am not ignorant about is the danger of melting plastic slash rubber insulations, sparking electrical wires onboard a plane in flight. I totally blame National Geographic’s Aircrash Investigation series on TV. They basically very painstakingly reconstruct till the very last seconds the fate of doomed planes. They do so for the sake of getting to the root of the cause of the said crash. So, I knew how I was sitting atop the main central fuel tanks in that 747-300. How, many electrical connections are so near those tanks. And, how the volatile jet fuel evaporates to fill the emptying tanks, forming vapors ready to ignite.

So I sat, understandably shaken. Call it paranoia, call it fear that roots from being less properly educated – but I was concerned. I looked around for plumes of smoke, which I thought would be emanating soon. I tried recalling the first verses of Ayatul Qursi, but mumbled Dua’ e Qanut instead. This last minute reverie of my life was rudely disturbed by Mr steward, asking me if I had lighted a cigarette in the last 5 odd minutes or so. Darn. NO, I said. I had NOT.

At last, the authorities on the plane concluded that there was nothing wrong with the airliner. One of crew members was seriously dejected and appeared sullen as he reported that he could not find anything wrong even around the luggage area. They reported something about the plane’s heating system, which had overheated and caused the pungent turn of events. I don’t know much about the said system which had gone awry. God forbid, had something really gone wrong, they would have certainly made a NatGeo documentary, explaining in detail the aforementioned system. But then, I wouldn’t have been there to witness that, would I?

Finally, the time for landing approached. While sorting out my things, I decided to give “Rabta” a glance. That’s the PIA’s in-flight magazine. In that, there were some remarks, or a speech, if you may, by the PIA’s CEO/Director. He had in his address thanked us - the passengers - for choosing PIA. And, we as consumers were invited to help make PIA even better by giving lots of feedback. Plus, the concept of the newlook tail ends of the PIA jumbos was explained, which now carry arty mosaics and patterns. Another thing that I read was his joyful announcement that PIA had recently acquired new jets to be added to the existing armada. This would help decrease the average age of the fleet from 20 years to about 8 years. Wow!

Was I enthralled at this revelation? Did I silently give three cheers for PIA? Or, did I become a faithful PIA customer for the times to come? No sir.

About the apparently inherent need of feedback, this insatiable thirst for comments, I wonder what they do with it. Is that subterfuge on a massive level? I am sure none of the complaints are ever entertained. I am sure any complaint made would have the same chance of being paid heed to, as would my request about removing all the pockmarks off the surface of the moon. Yes, at times I do think how beautiful the moon would look – not like a chunk of cheese, but a crystal ball balanced in the sky.

I got the excerpt below from www.piac.com.pk , the official PIA site.

Dear Passenger,

Your Opinions will certainly assist us in improving our service quality, both on the ground and in the air. If you wish to comment on any aspect of our services we would be grateful to hear from you.




And clearly, it shows that they are merely entertained when they receive feedback. They don’t make any false promises of planning to do anything to alleviate the problems.

About the new tail treatments, I would say that instead of spending untold millions there, they should have changed the serving trolleys currently in use. They look like last minute purchases from some third rate flee market. They are loaded from one end by the crew, and the opposite side hatch is repeatedly closed by the passengers. I did that twice. It’s understandable that they are 20 years old. But, I am sure they can be cleaned / maintained. I think instead of being aesthetically sound from the outside, the planes should be first made hospitable from the inside. Looking good isn’t a plane’s forte. It’s not a ramp model. A supermodel who can recite Shakespeare will certainly be welcomed, but her ignorance of literature can surely go unnoticed.

And, PIA getting new planes? That’s nice. But how in the name of all that’s holy would that news effect me? Someone like me who wouldn’t be setting foot again on a plane for God knows how long. The PIA I traveled with that day is the PIA I know. I think they should try and make little tangible things better. Like, they shouldn’t have booked the seat which they know is broken. I think I would be more impressed with that action, rather than applauding the mosaics I can’t ever see. The popularity/clientele gained by exploiting consumers wouldn’t ever be long lasting.

I am sure my effort wouldn’t go waste. And i really think (actually I do not) I would make journeys of many people yet to experience PIA better. But then, modesty precludes me from accepting the honor.

Having said all that and after my gutless rants, I am still obliged to thank PIA for putting me safely back on ground and say, good show PIA. Keep on flying!