Strip tease or security check!

Strip tease or security check!

“Sir, belt,” the CISF guard at the security checkpoint pointed out to the rotund gentleman. There was a clearly audible ‘oh ho’ in reply and then the middle-aged man grudgingly unbuckled the strip of skin of the unknown animal which had been so strong when alive that even now dead, it superbly upheld the dignity of the well-rounded man.

The man struggled to whip it out of the loops it was curled in, stepped away muttering sorry sorry in the air, put the belt in a random tray slowly disappearing under the scanner and darted again to stand on the podium. As he lifted and stretched his arms, most of us prayed his trousers do not fall down and looked away so we are not treated to a cruel visual. I also thought the Ministry of Science & Technology should declare belts as anti-gravity objects. Meanwhile, the subject in question helplessly clutched one side of his trousers and raised the other arm.

“Sir, baahein upar (Arms up),” cautioned the guard and the man left that side, to clutch the other one. Perhaps realizing mauke kee nazaakat (delicate moment) or feeling sympathetic or bored, the guard hurriedly ran the detector over him and shooed the now-sweating man off, who naturally went on to pull his trousers with both his hands and rushed to recover the belt from the tray. 

We have all heard of celebrities making a lot of noise about how they were frisked, given a pat-down or second screening or asked to take an item of clothing off to clear security.

Security checks at airports can prove to be dauting experience for most of us. But post 9/11, they seem to be the most important safety drill. Don’t all of us want to travel peacefully and land in one piece, without the fear of fellow fliers carrying strange items to hurt us during the flight or take us to some unplanned destination?

Passengers reach the security checkpoint, jostle for a tray, extract a few items from their bags, plonk them in the plastic receptor, lug their heavy carry-ons on to the conveyor relieved that one weight is off them for a while. Some wait till their belongings are safely under the scanner while others rush to the queue for pre-board screening. It is not uncommon to see people walking through the detector which screams ‘metal’. Those in the queue raise their eyebrows, shrug their shoulders, mumble and shift to the other foot, waiting for the drama to be over.  

There is always one woman in the line for ‘ladies’ who waddles in with half a dozen bags of various shapes, sizes and material she had been clutching on to for life and throws them on the conveyor. As the knot on one bag unravels, out slides the box of sweets and other food items. Then her companion whispers in her ear to take her phone out. She rushes, pulls the bags out, rummages through them mumbling, “yahin to rakha tha”. (Had kept it here). Just when she reappears flustered and anxious, trying to claim her earlier spot in the queue, her phone rings in the bin. And as if God Himself is calling to request what boons she would like, she extends her arm moaning ‘fone fone’!

Respect those who had meticulously copied Bollywood stars’ airport looks but to assure us dowdy fellow passengers, shed a few of the items on their person for scanning. The handler reminds, “Maidem jekkit?” (Madam jacket) and then follows a question-answer session about what is to be kept in the tray.

The post-check scene also does not disappoint you in respect of wonder at what kinds of things people carry. One can understand if it is coins/keys/laser pointers/sticks/cords and cables but a kg of tobacco/spices/food floating in gravy? Whatever were they thinking?

Memory behaves like a cheating partner when one is packing a carry-on and you see several big bottles of honey, jam, ketchup, oil, body lotion, scissors, nail clippers, various powders, taken out by the security personnel. (God grant good memory to smokers with their lighters and matchboxes!) A pity though that water, the basic necessity of life, if more than 100 ml of it is found in your bag, mostly gets labelled as prohibited item. Sensible to carry empty bottle and fill it up later!

I fail to comprehend how nail clippers can be used to cause bodily harm or how come no destructive mind has found a recipe for doom which requires less than 100 ml of liquid of any kind. But then, you should not google these questions.

Some of you might have seen the video of writer and comedian Varun Grover narrating how he was stopped at the security checkpoint for carrying two kgs of singhara (water chestnuts).

He asked the guard, “Won’t I look like an a*****e trying to hijack a plane with two kg of chestnuts?”

The guard replied, “Come to think of that. Won’t I look like an a*****e if you managed to?”

He was, however, allowed to take them unpeeled. Thus, the poor man was perhaps the only passenger ever who had peeled chestnuts sitting at an airport.

So, I dump my mobile phone, charger, keys, coin purse, the transparent pouch containing little bottles of eyedrops, sanitizer, lotion etc., leaving my bag limp on the belt with only my wallet in it. For domestic security checks in India, you do not have to take your shoes off. 

(I am talking only of domestic airports. Maybe I shall talk of international airports next week.)

And be careful what you talk of there. Even if you feel that the security personnel are too busy talking among themselves to pay attention, better not say that the woman you saw was a ‘bomb’. For before you have a chance to blink, you’d have uniformed armed people closing around you, pushing you in some other direction, with all chances of taking the flight gone, you on an entirely different flight path, with your luggage already checked in.

While asking in desperation what your fault was, you might also hear voices, “Kya hua?” (What happened?) “Pata nahin, bumb bumb kar raha tha.” (Don’t know, he was saying bomb bomb).

                                                                                                - Anupama S Mani