The news that the authorities want all manner of information from us so they can prevent the next billionaire run away or bring back black money into the system or prevent terrorism or build a wall on the Mexican border or something is the most welcome we have had since we invented the aircraft centuries ago.
I am touched that the authorities should take such interest in my travel arrangements. They want to know every single detail, and happily, every single detail is exactly what I have always wanted to share with nameless, faceless workers sitting in nameless, faceless towns and cities. After all, who doesn’t want to give out details of his bank account and credit card and names of travelling companions to random people?
Some of the information I can provide right now although I am not travelling any time soon.
For example, in the column ‘details of travel agency’, I will say ‘self’. I am a big boy now and book my own tickets. Under ‘baggage information’, I have the following: One pair of trousers in case the jeans I plan to wear through a two-month trip should get wet in the rain, three shirts (one of them off-white colour), underwear (six pairs), shaving kit, comb (black in colour), a couple of ties in case I am invited to address the Parliament of the country I am visiting, one pair black (or brown) shoes and one pair walking shoes with sole-stirring softness.
In one corner of the suitcase will be Proust’s classic Remembrances of Things Past which is my most widely-travelled unread novel, having accompanied me on all my trips in the last few decades. The cover has come off and some of the pages are missing (pages 16, 93 and 204, since you ask) but on one of these trips I plan to actually read the book. I recently built a Proust-holder in the suitcase so I can tell exactly where the book is, and ensure that no other novel takes its place.
They also ask for code-share information. Here’s an important one: Whenever I am bored at a gathering, I start scratching the top of my head so my wife gets the code and I am rescued. My wife’s code will be supplied on request.
What I am really excited about are the boxes marked ‘seat number’ and ‘meals’. The argument cannot be faulted. If I choose 4A on one flight while ordering non-vegetarian food and on a later trip choose 18J and vegetarian food, the algorithm will immediately indicate that it is not the same person. You can’t fool the computer.
Additionally, it means that following the first trip, I will never have to fill in anything again. As soon as I book a ticket, the authorities will automatically fill in my seat preference, my food preference and my general preference for arriving on time. This is expected to save hundreds of man hours which may be utilized in reading the remaining pages of Proust’s novel.
(Suresh Menon is Contributing Editor, The Hindu).
