Reaquainting with Aita

Ahan woke up just as I released myself into maa's arms. He cried a little, so I allowed him to travel on my lap in the car ride home. He was amused with all the honking along the way and couldn't stop chatting up the stray cows and dogs that were retiring along the road for the night. A mutt in the neighborhood got my maa her golden chance to re-bond with her grandson. Ahan took to her and our driver, Dharmender bhaiyya, giving me a chance to shower and eat my food in peace. We did the bedtime rituals and he fell asleep again without any problem. I was exhausted, but it was morning back home in Philadelphia. My body refused to get back on Indian time.

Finally home

We landed on time. Ahan slept through the whole deboarding process, while the passenger with the 10-month old baby helped me strap him in the Ergo and with my luggage. I decided best not to ask the flight crew for help after I saw them recruit another passenger to help the aunty with the bad knee with her bags.
The best thing about India is service. We breezed through immigration, where I caught a baffled officer asking his colleague about Guatemala's location, while stamping an entry on a co passenger's passport. Once at the luggage belt, nicely dressed men offered to help for a few dollars when they are actually required by law to do it for free. My stingy Indian side kicked in, I bargained them down to 100 rupees and they escorted me to my mother's arms and into the grime, sweat and crowded streets of Delhi.

Counting minutes to see maa

Ahan slept through most of the flight. The only times he woke up was when I had to use the loo and of course had to carry him in with me. There were tired protests, and it broke my heart. He was exhausted, and wanted to sleep. I wasn't doing good either without food, free arms and sleep. About two hours before touchdown at Delhi, they began serving breakfast. Ahan decided that's best time for a trip to the bathroom. His constipation gave way and we had a pretty interesting time in the crammed loo, trying to maneuver a diaper worth three-days poop, an excited Ahan and his precious clothes. I missed breakfast. They don't believe in leaving food at your seat if you are not there. The aunty came to my rescue and bugged the hell out of the attendants to get me food. As a trade off, I listened to her complain about her "loose" American daughter, who despite having a lavish Indian arranged marriage with a good Indian doctor, slept around and hooked up with a white man. It helped me not miss the Bollywood movie I could have watched had Ahan not been on the flight with me.

The fairer sex not so fair

My co-passenger, a woman, was a friend of one of the flight crews. That got her free booze, a gift pouch and visits from flight attendants who wanted to make sure her journey was comfortable. One of them expressed their horrors that a co-worker had the nerve to reseat a traumatize baby next to her. I don't know why, but I apologized. But I also made up my mind about wanting the
bassinet seat back. With a sleeping baby in arm, I tried grabbing the attendants' attention. After being ignored three times, and told twice that I would have to do it on my own, I pled my case to the two male passengers. They had given my seat away to an elderly aunty, who needed her legs propped because of a knee surgery. The men obliged. One of them had a left a 10-month baby in Virginia and said he felt my pain. He helped carry my stuff from the old seat and got me set up. Despite repeated requests I didn't get dinner. The bassinet came hours later. But befor I could fit Ahan in or ask for instructions on how to use it, they left. Of course Ahan didn't fit into it, and spend the rest of the journey sleeping on mamma's lap. Note to self, never travel Continental with a baby unless you've befriended one of the crew members.
P.S. a flight atendant looked at me af if I were a dunce for giving up my seat for nursing. "Why didn't you go to the bathroom to nurse?" she asked. "People do it there all the time."
Reallly? During take off?

On board mis-adventures

Getting into the plane was just the first hurdle. Ahan cried some more as we elbowed our way to our seat. I tried rocking him while stowing away my cabin and diaper bags. Maybe nursing would have helped, but they seated two men next to me, and that didn't go down well with a baby who's on a "I don't like strange men" phase.
I requested a stewardess to reseat me for takeoff near an empty seat, preferable next to a woman. She said that would mean surrendering my bassinet. Wanting to handle one crisis at a time, I agreed to that and relocated a couple rows behind. The nursing helped, and once we took off Ahan lulled into sleep. But dinner came with bright lights and a chatty crew, waking him up again. I had to abandon my food and nurse and rock him again until the lights went out.

First taste of home

Boarding the Continental flight was a refresher course on how things work in India. At the gate passengers huddled, pushed and jumped line to be the first ones to board. Continental doesn't discriminate and didn't want mothers with babies to board first. That's a privilege only for "elite" status passengers. Ahan cried hysterically as we tried to somehow make it to the gate. My American son never had so many strangers invade his personal space. At one point, Iku took him and tried to calm him singing "wheels on the bus". I finally somehow got through the gate without crying hysterically, losing my baby or my belongings.

Leaving home

Before we left for the airport, we spent the morning saying goodbye to friends, stocking up the refrigerator for Iku and weighing, unpacking and repacking our luggage. The ride to Newark went smooth, and once at the airport, Ahan sported his Gemini charms chatting up co passengers while we hung out in the queue waiting for our turn to check in. His magic worked on everyone except the Continental employee who declined a guest pass so Iku could escort us to the gate. She did give me a seat with more legroom, ok'd a bassinet and granted some extra pounds on the luggage.
Help came from unexpected quarters. A TSA employee tipped us that he qualified, and thankfully another trip to the Continental counter got us the psuedo boarding pass and through security. After that it was all a blur. We fed an overstimulated, restless baby sans any contraption, changed his diaper while he declared mutiny and rushed to board the plane.