why i hate airplanes


It’s a fact that I hate airplanes. Like how the grass is green, sky is blue, and homework is illegal. I’m still waiting for the day that NASA will invent a new form of commercial travel. Floating bubbles maybe?

It’s ironic that I’m scared of them, especially since they’re one of the main travel modes. Also, I like heights, and driving at fast speeds, it’s just being boxed up in a metal bird kinda freaks me out a lot.

In order to board a plane you need to go through millions of security checks. Necessary? Absolutely. Fun? Not in the least. I tend to freak out whenever I walk through a metal detector, wondering whether the metal button on my jeans in will get me arrested.

Frankly, I don’t really mind duty free but it doesn’t really get me pumping. So I’ll be waiting in the lounge, staring through the foggy windows, the flashing lights as the trucks hook up the planes. It looks pretty scary up close and that sterilized lemon smell in the plane? Eugh.

I have nothing against flight attendants. In fact, I admire the courage they have to be in a plane for so long. What I do protest against is that tone they use. The smile, like they’re welcoming you to your very own tropical paradise. I’ve gone completely claustrophobic by this time, and my head has begun to spin. I cram myself into the seat and take a deep breath.

Infinity passes before the captain’s voice comes on, wishing everyone a safe and happy voyage. Then the flight attendants come up to give a safety demonstration. I’m no ‘professional flight researcher’ but I guess that about one out of a thousand people will actually pay attention.

The other 999 are browsing the inflight magazine, listening to music, working (or pretending to) or watching with slight interest, keenly waiting for the movie selection. After the attendants sit down, I always feel a pang of guilt for not paying attention-maybe next time?

I always make a schedule for the long haul flights- I’d like to spend the first hour reading, maybe listen to music and then see the movie selection. Instead, I lounge back (to annoy the people behind me) and turn the movie on, not a second after takeoff. It’s great. Two of my favourite movies which I missed ‘cause of exams. So I plug the headphones in, and jab at the buttons with intensifying fury until the movie starts. It’s awful. Literally the whole Percy Jackson cast has been condensed into a tiny box, all their fights distorted. Any chance of the movie working, and then the captain’s voice will perk up again to remind you that salted peanuts are on their way.

The food comes, and a nauseous feeling sets in. The wrapped up foil dish doesn’t look too appetizing and  you remind yourself that you won’t get food for the next 5 hours or so with all likelihood that the Starbucks in a foreign country may not have your ideal Starbucks beverage.

Hooray! You made touchdown. I feel a surge of relief and begin to shake out the pins and needles from my legs. You say goodbye to the ladies standing at the entrance, this time with a spring in your step and sprint up the ramp, away from the plane.

That’s an honest first rate description of almost every flight for me. And yeah I guess that maybe I really do hate airplanes, but without them I’d be unable to travel.

I’d hate that even more.

Pic credits- Unfortunately most of my flights happen at obscene hours where I’m unable to use flash or get a good shot- this one’s from tumblr.


in manner of moving


We just shifted into our new apartment. At first, before the move, I was under the impression that I would have to say bye to all of the friends I had in my building. I was pretty relieved when my parents said that we would just be moving to another wing- same apartment.

See, I actually don’t mind moving house. Of course I don’t like the packing stage, when I uncover long lost objects that used to be so important. Or the unpacking stage when I can’t decide where I should put everything. I start out by organising every meticulous detail, and as my boredom levels increase, I resort to shoving everything in a cupboard. Sometimes I have to go for days without TV or Wifi which sends me into a state of panic. I plan on camping for months in the desolate wilderness with my friends, so this is ironic. Then, there are my friends. Most of the moves- I haven’t really had to say goodbye to them thanks to social media, or the fact that it’s just a different house in the same area. However, I still never look forward to saying bye- even if it’s not for long.

A couple of good tips that I would advise about moving- they’ve helped me over the years is to ‘spring clean’ while you move. Get rid of any unwanted stuff. Every move I’ll find myself sitting, covered in old Christmas cards and yearbooks. Oh- and don’t get me started on those dried out markers and rogue crayons I find everywhere. Another great idea is to add some pillows, or soft fluffy objects to a box full of breakables. It works- trust me.

When I reach the new house, I explore every corner and start pretending that I know where to put things. The truth is, unless I have a really really strong image of a certain object, I am clueless as how to organise my room.

Often I’ll stare at the design magazines for ages, where people have posted their amazing rooms, some simple but cute, some artsy enough to be the home of a tumblr goddess, some chaotically messy. I try to pick out a theme for myself but usually I blend most themes together.

Plus,when I grow up I plan on living in at least 50 different places a year- from loft apartments in London to a beach house in Bali, mansion in Prague and my cave in Hawaii (Please don’t ask).

So, while it’s not easy- I gotta say it’s pretty cool to move.


Top: Rock climbing.

Bottom: Just.