Flying light

To me, travelling around the world has always meant enduring security checks. In this ruthless domain, there was no political correctness. ‘Sir’, ‘please’ or ‘may I’ seemed to be the privilege of the ‘civilised’ world. One of my ‘security check’ stories borders on the fantastic. I once spent an hour that seemed like an eternity, sitting on a charpoy with a Sri Lankan visa official in an interrogation room — who first made himself comfortable by divesting himself of his shirt. Tenacious to the end — he made no bones of the fact that he was hunting down Tamil Tigers — he wondered why the Tigers had commenced operations in Bangkok.

That was a while ago. The sultans of security recently dealt another blow. These days I have become quite innovative in packing for a business trip. Dreading those luggage waits, I try to carry only hand-baggage. Squeezing out smaller portions of shampoo and cologne into vials and cream and toothpaste into sachets, I have assembled several ‘mini’ travel kits. I check these in my luggage, and leave one kit behind in our branch offices. This allows me to make all my subsequent trips without checking in any luggage.

However, recently, while visiting an important client, I committed a faux pas. After my meeting, I handed him one such parcel thinking that it would come in handy should I visit him again. He thanked me profusely for my ‘gift’, and invited me out to dinner that evening. Embarrassed, I then had to tell him what the contents were.