Russia travelogue day 1: the rest of the plane ride

June 16th, 4:40 am:
I managed to catch some 4 hours of sleep before being served the breakfast. What i have wanted the most on this flight though is water. Unbeknownst to me,all the waiting in the airport and at home doesn't have to be exclusive, you can do other life saving things like drink water. So the first thing i asked is water at dinner time and the same now when we got breakfast. I saw the air hostess pick up a translucent small cup, gently pour the nectar of life into it. I even felt that it was magical, the bubbles floating up from the bottom, as if this water had a certain oomph to it. Like it was sparkling in the morning light peakng through the Windows. Gladly i brought the cup to my lips for a big cathartic sip. It was sparkling water. 
I felt like puking it back down into the cup. I hate sparkling water.  I have never had it unless by mistake. And after having a whole cup of it i have decided that sparkling water is what is wrong with humanity. We couldn't just have water? We had to jazz it up like it's a prostitute in the window of a red light district. What is the reasoning behind this whole invention? Here, water for people who hate the taste of water. Water for people who want soda but want to live at the same time. Water for those who like their water like their men/women, farting on the sly.  It's bastardization of the highest order.
I suffered silently since i am sitting in the middle and i could see another cart pushing in the other aisle. As politely as possible, i asked for water again. This time emphasizing “regular water please". The air host picked up a translucent cup, gently poured the nectar...cup to my lips for a big cathartic sip again. Immediately felt like needles poking my tongue as he continued to tell me that apparently all he has is the evil water. I hate evil water but I am thirsty and life goes on. We have other battles to fight. On to Lesson number 3, always have a bottle of water with you. It's too precious to leave it to others.

Anyway, time to land and rush to our connecting flight. We only have an hour after landing to the boarding of the next flight. Will we get to it in time? Find out after the break.

1:22 pm 
just made it. We had to run to the security gates. Where there were lines waiting to even form the lines the security lines. Shrishti ever resourceful, went to ask a security person who pointed to a board further ahead. Well that was all the excuse we needed to cut through the crowd to check if our flight was one of the lucky ones in the fast lane, unfortunately not. But at least we were in the front if the crowd just about to get into the lines. So it is 12:05 and we're in the line. 1:10 our flight departs.  Soon we find other poor souls taking the same route as us; one of the ladies had flight 15 minutes before us.  All of us next to the fast lane, wistfully eyeing the board while shuffling toward the long winding line. But no luck! Soon we were lost in the crowd. Another few nameless travelers added to the masses awaiting salvation. It was a long wait. We made it 30 steps in half an hour. The poor lady who came behind us and was in even worse situation as us went back to the polite but strict German attendant to ask if she could cross to fast lane. She could and that gave us the courage to ask him too and he relented seeing that it was already 1240. Now, when I call it fast lane, I'm being very generous because even with just around 50 folks ahead of us, it took us 20 more minutes to get to the security gates. The reason became obvious once we got there. 
There was a bouncer (security agent) who was doing a pre check before the x ray.  He had a look of mild inconvenience when shaks took out her big bag of toiletries. it soon turned into a look of considerable annoyance when he opened her bag and out popped three little bags. Each categorized and put together functionally. A bag for bath, a bag for make-up and a bag for contact solutions. To put it mildly he was not pleased and informed that only one 1l bag is allowed. We were running late and there was this new hitch on the road. So, I took her bag for myself and she was let pass but only after her face wash which had less than 3 ounces of stuff but the bottle itself was 12 ounce size was thrown away.  Now came my turn and when I put out one my bag and the other one I had taken from shaks, the agent sternly repeated himself. At this point I would have settled for anything to get to our flight so I decided to bite the bullet and ask him to throw all the creams I had away. At this point, he also had enough so he just waved my by.
Anxious for our bags to emerge from the maws of the X-Ray machine, I kept glancing at the clock which now read 1:05. I saw with dread when one of shaks bag was pulled for further check. I saw with further dread when the agent put a hand on my bag deciding whether it should be checked separately as well. Thankfully he decided against it. So while shaks stood there to get her bag picked apart, I took my stuff and rest of her stuff and bolted to the boarding gate. 
And I sit here now, plane has just taken off. I wave a silent good bye to Shaks who must have reached the gates after it closed. I'm sorry love; you can make it to Russia tomorrow. I will meanwhile seek consolation from the Egyptian beauty next to me. Just kidding, there is no Egyptian Beauty; there is a bald middle aged gentleman, who works as a bank manager. Also the plane boarded till 1:30, so shaks made it in time as well. Like a good fiance I waited for her to reach the gates before I boarded. Slightly anti-climactic that, there was no rushing to the gate and pleading to let us in. Just a queue to get into.

But as they say, you do it to feel the stress and anxiety of journey not the bliss of reaching the destination.
Time to nap some more. Next stop Russia!