Throwback to December 1997: Tummy Troubles, Pre-Internet Struggles, and the Girl Who Got Away

Ah, December 1997. The era of cassette tapes, pre-internet chaos, and moments when a Jet Airways ticket counter decided your fate. It was the month my cousin from the US decided to grace India with his presence after a solid 17-year gap. The plan? A grand tour of Delhi and Agra. The reality? A comedy of errors featuring near-zero temperatures, tummy troubles, and a missed chance at friendship (even more, maybe?).

The Delhi Belly Debacle

They say, “Travel broadens the mind but also tightens the stomach.” My cousin, tall, lanky, and equipped with zero Indian food tolerance, learned this the hard way. We landed in Delhi on Christmas morning, greeted by temperatures that could double as the setting for a survival movie. By nightfall, the infamous Delhi Belly claimed him as its latest victim.

Goodbye, Taj Mahal plans. Hello, emergency logistics. While he was waging war with his digestive system, I was frantically sprinting across Delhi, trying to convince Jet Airways staff why our “Happy New Year in India” plan needed a rebranding as “Get Us Out of Here ASAP.”

The Great Airport Escape

By 7 PM on December 26, we were finally at Delhi airport, ready to board our flight back to Mumbai. My cousin, still recovering from his gastrointestinal adventures, did what he does best—plopped down on the aisle seat, pulled his cap over his face, and passed out.

Meanwhile, I was in the middle seat, contemplating my life choices.

They say, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” I wasn’t prepared, but opportunity had other plans.

Enter: Sapna Chaudhary

A smart girl with an obvious British accent took the window seat next to me. She was Indian but exuded that cool “I’ve lived abroad” vibe. As she settled in, I silently thanked every deity in the Indian pantheon.

Now, here’s the thing: I’m not smooth. At all. So, when I tried to strike up a conversation, I committed what can only be described as The Faux Pas of the Century.

Me: “Are you reading the in-flight magazine?”
Her: Looks at the magazine she is clearly reading “Yes.”
Me: “Uh… can I borrow it?”

Smooth, right? Never mind that I had my own untouched copy sitting in the seat pocket. She handed it over, probably more amused than annoyed.

Mark Twain once said, “There are no mistakes in life, only lessons.” That day, I learned the importance of thinking before speaking.

The Chat That Could Have Been More

Her name was Sapna Chaudhary. She was an NRI visiting relatives in India, heading to Mumbai after her Delhi leg. We talked about life in the UK, her impressions of India, and other lighthearted topics. Meanwhile, my cousin remained blissfully unaware, snoring through what could’ve been the most pivotal moment of my life.

We chatted over the inflight meal, and before I knew it, the flight was landing. At the baggage carousel, we exchanged goodbyes. And that was it. No phone numbers. No promises to keep in touch. Just a polite wave and a sigh-worthy exit.

What If?

To this day, I wonder: What if I hadn’t botched the magazine opener? What if I’d asked for her contact details? What if…

They say, “Regret is like a rocking chair—it gives you something to do, but it doesn’t get you anywhere.”

So here’s the deal, dear readers. If anyone knows Sapna Chaudhary, an NRI who was on a Jet Airways flight from Delhi to Mumbai on December 26, 1997, let her know that the awkward guy in the middle seat still remembers.

Would I pick up the conversation where we left off? Probably not. Would I mess up a new conversation? Absolutely. But hey, life’s about second chances, right? 😄