Sunanda K Datta-Ray: Singapore Airline's lucky

WHERE MONEY TALKS

Backing out of the deal to buy a part of Air India's equity has served it well.

The nightmare of last weekend's journey from Singapore to Guwahati recalled Singapore Airlines backing out of its bid for a share of Air-India's equity. The defence agreement signed since then confirms that the Singaporean objection is not to investing in India "" indeed, some in Delhi's corridors of power grumble that Singaporean companies are buying up too much stock here "" but to throwing good money after bad.

Time was when the young Lee Kuan Yew was up in arms against Singapore's British rulers for not allowing Air-India a stake in the old Malaysian-Singapore Airline in which BOAC and Qantas had hefty shares. He accused the colonial regime of promoting a white monopoly, and of moral dishonesty. Air-India had to be the best airline serving Singapore since government leaders all used it; but when it came to ownership, they preferred Britain and Australia to India.

Those days, alas! are long past. They belong to the airline's connection with JRD Tata, who used to be a regular visitor to Singapore and was much admired and respected there for his sense of efficient public service free of rhetorical humbug. Tata told me once that being dropped from Air-India's board by Morarji Desai was the unkindest cut of all.

Strictly speaking, my saga concerns the former Indian Airlines (now Indian) and not Air-India. But overlapping at levels since the merger means Air-India airbuses ply Indian routes and flights that are announced as Air-India have IC numbers. I am not complaining about that though visible operational separation would have made for clarity. Nor have I anything but praise for the more humble of Air-India/Indian employees who are courteous, friendly and as helpful as they can be given the limitations imposed on them by the colossally inefficient employer they serve. It's this institutional failure that should force a drastic review of state-owned aviation.

Back to details. IC 858, the direct flight from Singapore to Delhi, was "rescheduled" on Friday, October 5. The euphemism meant it was cancelled, and we had no option but to settle for the same flight "" but with a difference "" the following day: it would go via Bangkok and would, therefore, take longer. Given Hobson's Choice, one turned up at Changi airport in good time on Saturday, October 6, and waited. And waited. And waited. IC's Delhi-Singapore plane landed an hour or so late; since the same aircraft would fly back, we were reconciled to the delay. But as time went on, the comings and goings, the crackling field telephone conversations, and the group around the aircraft, visible through the plate glass, took on a frantic quality.

One of the SATS (Singapore Airport Terminal Services, handling agents for Air-India/Indian) said in passing that some part of the aircraft that was supposed to retract stubbornly refused to do so. One gathered that the crew thought it a minor technical fault and was keen on flying back but Singapore could not allow that. There must have been a great many exchanges at higher levels of which we were unaware. Then, eventually, we knew it was all over when two elegantly draped hostesses in orange silk stalked in jointly lugging a large stroller, also orange. Their faces were set in expressions of sulky disappointment. The cancellation announcement came half an hour later.

Thank heavens for SATS' briskly sympathetic handling of the crisis. Passengers had connecting flights to all over India. We were all heard in patience, advised on the best route, assured we would incur no additional cost. Mari, a burly Singaporean Tamil executive with SATS, promptly reimbursed (no forms in triplicate or waiting involved) my taxi fare when, refusing his offer of hospitality at the airport, I decided to go back home for a couple of hours. When I returned to Changi that night, there was young Sunny Saha, Malaysian Bengali, an Air-India/Indian employee, rushing around soothing shattered nerves, seeing that booked luggage was transferred to the right aircraft and passengers reunited with the duty free purchases they couldn't take out of the airport while waiting.

Junior employees at Chennai and Delhi were similarly helpful. But none of them had any say in, or even knowledge of, the frequent breakdowns of a vast undertaking in which, as Singaporeans who handled the abortive Air-India purchase point out, there is no sense of accountability. It exists, they say, only for the comfort and convenience of government people who travel in upgraded style.

Some waited optimistically for the next day. Some took the Mumbai flight. Mari arranged for me to fly to Chennai that night, to be put up there in a comfortable hotel for three or four hours, then placed on a flight to Delhi from where I caught my connection to Guwahati. It sounds pleasant enough but was a harrowing experience, a five-hour journey spun into 36 hours of uncertainty from start to finish, with many cancelled appointments and a fortune on telephone calls to my son in Delhi.

One last observation. If Indian Airlines calls itself Indian, we the people of India are justified in demanding some other appellation. A billion cannot "" will not "" be tarred with the same brush.

sunanda.dattaray@gmail.com