This week a flight was grounded in Manchester Airport when a passenger wandered into the aisles slightly before take-off and opened the Emergency Exit door, mistaking it for the bathroom. As it was designed to do, the door blasted off the plane and an emergency plastic slide inflated immediately towards the ground, like it does in those videos they show before take-off. The incident made international news because of all the airport delays and ensuing chaos, and also because – if we are honest – I don’t think anyone has been inside an airplane and not imagined opening the emergency door. I imagine it’s like when you are standing at the top of a very tall building peering over the edge, and you feel a strong, disturbing urge to jump towards the ground (no? just me? Alright then).
Sadly, the flight in question was PIA Manchester to Islamabad, so, you know, five points to Pakistan. Personal experience confirms to me that international PIA flights are some of the worst six hours you can spend airborne, even without unforeseen delays. After the first wave of irritation my heart thawed while considering what her – let’s call her Nighat? – reaction must have been to causing all this commotion. Imagine: her quivering hand still clutching the ghost of the door handle that she imagined would take her to the loo; Nighat staring in horror at the open expanse of concrete runway in front of her as her dupatta flutters in the wind, a thousand pairs of unformed eyes scowling at her even as she tries the next door – because she still had to go to the loo!
Aside from the dark novelty of such a mess-up, I am still confused as to how it could happen at all. I covet the emergency exit seats like an addict does crack, and even a simple glance at them will tell you those are not easy doors to open. You have to first unlock a large lever one way, then a cross hatch the opposite direction, then press several buttons and pull down a strappy thing. Meanwhile Nighat – who one presumes either has never flown before or else was ambitiously medicated – was committed enough to be not only solve the complicated instructions for opening a scary airlocked door, but did so completely unnoticed by any other passengers or flight attendants.
Having stalked the exit seats, I can also tell you that she is far from the first to try. I’ve seen countless passengers on PIA give the door a good yank (on two occasions while in mid-air) for no other reason than they were in its proximity and bored. And this is not even in the top ten worst things that happened on PIA.
Observe: When I was last on a PIA flight (this one also from Manchester to Pakistan) a small child came running up to the area in front of my seat, looked squarely into my soul, and then pulled his pants down to defecate right there. He was joined in a moment by his mother, who looked on the whole spectacle with an air of indifference before whisking her kid away, leaving behind his poo and the beginnings of my communal trust issues. I’ve seen lots on PIA flights: kids being slapped, people spitting, beating, crying, toe nail grooming, groin scratching, nasal spitting, hacking, coughing in my ear, playing their music loudly mid-flight, theft, nosehair grooming, attempted theft, routine evangelicalism, and most terrifyingly– on a particularly horrifying long haul trip from New York to Lahore in 2005 – a man died while we were crossing over Romania, which I suppose is only marginally better than dying in it.
I’ve long since abandoned the idea that PIA will somehow turn back time and become a pleasant flying experience accessorized with Pierre Cardin uniforms. It’s a bloated, corrupt organization that needs to be run like a profitable business (as opposed to a Soviet housing scheme) in order to succeed. In that way it’s much like all our other institutions: those types of rebranding journeys only happen to actresses before awards seasons or else to countries in times of relative stability. At the moment our country is not in awards season: it has no money, no economy, no savings, huge debts, and the Powers That Be have arrested both major opposition leaders in what has to be one of the quietest coups in recent memory. So maybe Nighat – brave soul who tried to go to the loo but broke an airport instead – represents a warning to us in more ways than we care to admit.
Maybe we are all just trying to open our emergency exit’s door by pretending it’s a loo.
Write to thekantawala@Gmail.com
Sadly, the flight in question was PIA Manchester to Islamabad, so, you know, five points to Pakistan. Personal experience confirms to me that international PIA flights are some of the worst six hours you can spend airborne, even without unforeseen delays. After the first wave of irritation my heart thawed while considering what her – let’s call her Nighat? – reaction must have been to causing all this commotion. Imagine: her quivering hand still clutching the ghost of the door handle that she imagined would take her to the loo; Nighat staring in horror at the open expanse of concrete runway in front of her as her dupatta flutters in the wind, a thousand pairs of unformed eyes scowling at her even as she tries the next door – because she still had to go to the loo!
I’ve seen countless passengers on PIA give the door a good yank (on two occasions while in mid-air) for no other reason than they were in its proximity and bored. And this is not even in the top ten worst things that happened
Aside from the dark novelty of such a mess-up, I am still confused as to how it could happen at all. I covet the emergency exit seats like an addict does crack, and even a simple glance at them will tell you those are not easy doors to open. You have to first unlock a large lever one way, then a cross hatch the opposite direction, then press several buttons and pull down a strappy thing. Meanwhile Nighat – who one presumes either has never flown before or else was ambitiously medicated – was committed enough to be not only solve the complicated instructions for opening a scary airlocked door, but did so completely unnoticed by any other passengers or flight attendants.
Having stalked the exit seats, I can also tell you that she is far from the first to try. I’ve seen countless passengers on PIA give the door a good yank (on two occasions while in mid-air) for no other reason than they were in its proximity and bored. And this is not even in the top ten worst things that happened on PIA.
Observe: When I was last on a PIA flight (this one also from Manchester to Pakistan) a small child came running up to the area in front of my seat, looked squarely into my soul, and then pulled his pants down to defecate right there. He was joined in a moment by his mother, who looked on the whole spectacle with an air of indifference before whisking her kid away, leaving behind his poo and the beginnings of my communal trust issues. I’ve seen lots on PIA flights: kids being slapped, people spitting, beating, crying, toe nail grooming, groin scratching, nasal spitting, hacking, coughing in my ear, playing their music loudly mid-flight, theft, nosehair grooming, attempted theft, routine evangelicalism, and most terrifyingly– on a particularly horrifying long haul trip from New York to Lahore in 2005 – a man died while we were crossing over Romania, which I suppose is only marginally better than dying in it.
I’ve long since abandoned the idea that PIA will somehow turn back time and become a pleasant flying experience accessorized with Pierre Cardin uniforms. It’s a bloated, corrupt organization that needs to be run like a profitable business (as opposed to a Soviet housing scheme) in order to succeed. In that way it’s much like all our other institutions: those types of rebranding journeys only happen to actresses before awards seasons or else to countries in times of relative stability. At the moment our country is not in awards season: it has no money, no economy, no savings, huge debts, and the Powers That Be have arrested both major opposition leaders in what has to be one of the quietest coups in recent memory. So maybe Nighat – brave soul who tried to go to the loo but broke an airport instead – represents a warning to us in more ways than we care to admit.
Maybe we are all just trying to open our emergency exit’s door by pretending it’s a loo.
Write to thekantawala@Gmail.com