By Dr. R. Balasubramaniam

Travelling abroad used to be a refined experience. One dressed smartly, was served meals on porcelain plates with real cutlery, and returned home with stories, souvenirs, and perhaps a few undeveloped rolls of film. It was as much about the journey as the destination. Today, it feels more like running an obstacle course designed by someone who dislikes people.

Consider the simple matter of catching a connecting flight. Earlier, this meant a calm walk across the tarmac or, at worst, a short ride on an airport bus. Now, it means an unscheduled cardio workout. Modern airports seem to have been designed by urban planners with a cruel sense of humour. The connecting gate is always in a different terminal, usually at the farthest end. Moving walkways offer hope but are either out of service or moving at a speed that suggests existential fatigue. Running across terminals, dodging other passengers and rolling bags, has become standard practice for the international flyer.

Then there is the food — or what is still optimistically referred to as “in-flight cuisine.” In the past, even in economy, passengers were served hot meals that bore some resemblance to actual food, accompanied by warm bread and stainless-steel cutlery. Today, the meal tray is a tightly sealed collection of items that were likely assembled days in advance, stored near the aircraft’s auxiliary power unit, and reheated just enough to confuse your taste buds. Descriptions such as “gourmet” or “inspired by regional flavours” have become aspirational rather than accurate.

Interactions with the cabin crew have also evolved. Flight attendants once moved about the cabin with a kind of calm assurance, distributing towels, drinks, and smiles. Now, they are more operationally focused — efficient and brisk, sometimes curt. Requests for water or a second cup of coffee are occasionally met with a look that suggests you have asked for an upgrade to business class without paying for it.

Equally noticeable is the behaviour of fellow passengers. Previously, a seatmate might offer you gum, help with forms, or exchange pleasantries. Today, headlines tell us of passengers urinating in their seats or, worse, on their neighbours. Personal space is now a concept rather than a reality, and loud videos or unsolicited conversations are accepted background noise.

Economy class, once tight but tolerable, has now been reconfigured for people with unusually short legs or unusually high tolerance for discomfort. Reclining your seat is a calculated risk, potentially provoking the person behind you to passive-aggressive retaliation involving knees or tray tables. Stretching mid-flight requires advanced yoga skills and an aisle seat.

Checking in baggage, once a straightforward affair, has now become an act of faith. Luggage may or may not arrive with you. If it does, it may be damaged, delayed, or rerouted. Airlines have sophisticated systems to track bags, but they rarely align with your own travel plans.

Then comes the final hurdle — immigration. Earlier, it involved a stamp, a smile, and a “Welcome.” Now, it is a slow-moving line ending in biometric scanners that never recognise your fingerprints on the first try. The officer may ask existential questions like, “Why are you visiting?” at a moment when all you want is to find a restroom and a flat surface to collapse on.

And finally, the jet lag. It used to be manageable — a day of rest, some sunlight, and a few cups of tea usually did the trick. These days, the body clock seems to defy all attempts at correction. Recovery takes days, sometimes longer than the trip itself. Your brain is in one time zone, your body in another, and your mood somewhere in between.

International travel remains a gateway to new experiences, connections, and learning. But for all the speed and convenience that modern aviation promises, the experience feels increasingly less about the glamour of flying and more about surviving the journey. And if, at the end of it all, your luggage, your limbs, and your mental clarity all arrive at the same place, that is as close to success as it gets.

[Dr. R. Balasubramaniam is the Founder of Swami Vivekananda Youth Movement. ‘The Lighter Side’ is a series of satirical articles meant to bring a smile by highlighting the funny side of everyday life.]