(5 min read)
A story of an adventure which I didn't want, but was enforced upon me and I had no choice but to plan for it.
Prologue
"Is there nothing you could do?" I asked"Sorry sir, we can't do anything else. There are only 2 things you could do. Either cancel the ticket and get a full refund or choose an alternate flight within 7 days of the travel"
I thought for a moment and said, "Cancelling is not an option for me. Is there any other direct flight in the next 7 days?"
"Sorry sir!" again from the other end. "No direct flight within a weeks' time."
I was dumbfounded. I disconnected the call. I sat there for a moment to decide on my next course of action. In the past few days, I had similar set of calls with the customer services of SpiceJet - supposedly the second largest airline of India in terms of number of passengers it caters to. And after the end of each of the calls I was left wanting for hope.
A month ago, I had booked a direct flight from Hyderabad to Kolkata which would take me only 2 hours. A week before the travel, I received a message from SpiceJet that due to operational issues my journey would have 6 hours of layover in Gwalior. Then, 2 days later I would receive another message that instead of Gwalior, the layover would be in Visakhapatnam (Vizag). A one and half hour journey to Vizag and then a stay of 16 hours and then a flight to Kolkata which would take another 2 hours. A 2 hour journey would become a whopping 20 hours journey. More than the duration of the journey my mind was focusing on the night sandwiched between the flights. Where would I stay? What would I do?
Customer is the king? Well, maybe not!
I tried few more options before finally accepting my fate. I tried Twitter - wrote an emotional post as a helpless customer. Got a reply to contact the customer service. I said I already did that. A response came, "Sorry sir!"
Sent an email to the customer relations. Again, the response came, "Sorry sir!" I asked for compensation - an accommodation and couple of meal vouchers. Response came, "Sorry sir!"
On the fateful day, I reached the Hyderabad airport, vented out my frustration to the SpiceJet lady who asked me for my ticket. There too I heard the same words, "Sorry sir!" She also said she can have sympathy on me, but she can't be of any help. By that time, I had made up my mind to see how Vizag welcomes me. So, I told her she can keep back her sympathy. I also told her, that it wasn't my job to bear the problems of SpiceJet and that too without any compensation.
She wanted me to take my luggage with me while departing the Vizag airport and bring it back the next day when I will be travelling to Kolkata. I said that they are testing my patience and I wouldn't obey to this command of theirs. They should own this task and manage internally to send my luggage to Kolkata. They agreed without saying 'sorry sir'.
"You can spend the night in this Masjid if you want" These words sounded so comforting at that moment, that I cannot explain here. A help straight from the divine. I thanked him profusely. I shared with him my ID card, just so that both of us can trust each other.
Imam Mustaqeem was probably my age if not younger. He explained to me the route to the beach and the places where I can have dinner. Another boy near the Masjid was about to leave to a place which was very near to the beach. I hoped on his bike and on we went.
On my way to the beach, rain came pouring down. It was a proper welcome in Vizag. A couple of pit stops later I reached RK beach. On one side to me was a brightly lit Beach road, while on the other side was the roaring sounds of Bay of Bengal, fully dark with no moon to light it. Only a few boats at a distance would set up twinkling dots on the sea.
A sense of accomplishment engulfed me. I thought, "I was not supposed to be here. The weather wasn't kind when I landed in Vizag a couple of hours ago. Now, I am standing here and witnessing something brilliant." Although not completely visible but splashes of waves on the rocks beside the road would put me in state of immense gratitude.
Not long ago I had read Shoe dog by Phil Knight - the founder of Nike. At that moment I remembered he wrote that how often he would go on a run. Without thinking twice, I started running on the pavement beside the road. I looked up to the sky, drizzle falling on my face, the sweet sound of the waves - I wanted nothing but to keep running. I would have run a kilometers or so, when I realized that I had to go back to the Masjid.
It would have been a10:30 PM when I reached the Masjid near the airport. I met with the half-asleep Imam. He was kind enough to provide me with a pillow and a mattress (which he had it in the Masjid for weary travelers like me). Before I dozed off, we exchanged our stories, talked about our native places, and about the locals surrounding the Masjid and their likes and dislikes. He also explained to me as this is an airport area, police would often do a round and ask about people's ID (hence I was asked to share my ID earlier).
The Imam woke me up at dawn for an early morning prayer. We had breakfast together and after that I bid goodbye to him not unknown to both of us of a mutually formed friendship.
On reaching Kolkata, I reflected on the memories that I have gathered, on the new friendship that I built. All these were good memories, happy memories. But I couldn't forget what SpiceJet had done and the treatment I received. In one of our conversation with the customer care executives, I told them without any hesitation that they have lost a customer in me.
On the fateful day, I reached the Hyderabad airport, vented out my frustration to the SpiceJet lady who asked me for my ticket. There too I heard the same words, "Sorry sir!" She also said she can have sympathy on me, but she can't be of any help. By that time, I had made up my mind to see how Vizag welcomes me. So, I told her she can keep back her sympathy. I also told her, that it wasn't my job to bear the problems of SpiceJet and that too without any compensation.
She wanted me to take my luggage with me while departing the Vizag airport and bring it back the next day when I will be travelling to Kolkata. I said that they are testing my patience and I wouldn't obey to this command of theirs. They should own this task and manage internally to send my luggage to Kolkata. They agreed without saying 'sorry sir'.
Help found in a surprising place
When I landed in Vizag, the first thing I checked on my phone was Google Maps. I was trying to see if there is any Masjid nearby. It was getting darker, and I was getting late for my evening prayer. Thankfully, I found a Masjid within 2 kms of the airport. I went straight to the place and offered my Namaz. The Masjid wasn't very big and the locality nearby wasn't much populated. After the prayers I spoke to the Imam (his name I got to know later was Muhammed Mustaqeem sb.). I explained my situation to him and told him that I would love to visit the beach and then probably find some place to spend my night before I go back to the airport.
"You can spend the night in this Masjid if you want" These words sounded so comforting at that moment, that I cannot explain here. A help straight from the divine. I thanked him profusely. I shared with him my ID card, just so that both of us can trust each other.
Imam Mustaqeem was probably my age if not younger. He explained to me the route to the beach and the places where I can have dinner. Another boy near the Masjid was about to leave to a place which was very near to the beach. I hoped on his bike and on we went.
Recalling Phil Knight's memoir
On my way to the beach, rain came pouring down. It was a proper welcome in Vizag. A couple of pit stops later I reached RK beach. On one side to me was a brightly lit Beach road, while on the other side was the roaring sounds of Bay of Bengal, fully dark with no moon to light it. Only a few boats at a distance would set up twinkling dots on the sea.
A sense of accomplishment engulfed me. I thought, "I was not supposed to be here. The weather wasn't kind when I landed in Vizag a couple of hours ago. Now, I am standing here and witnessing something brilliant." Although not completely visible but splashes of waves on the rocks beside the road would put me in state of immense gratitude.
Not long ago I had read Shoe dog by Phil Knight - the founder of Nike. At that moment I remembered he wrote that how often he would go on a run. Without thinking twice, I started running on the pavement beside the road. I looked up to the sky, drizzle falling on my face, the sweet sound of the waves - I wanted nothing but to keep running. I would have run a kilometers or so, when I realized that I had to go back to the Masjid.
Wait for an early day tomorrow
It would have been a10:30 PM when I reached the Masjid near the airport. I met with the half-asleep Imam. He was kind enough to provide me with a pillow and a mattress (which he had it in the Masjid for weary travelers like me). Before I dozed off, we exchanged our stories, talked about our native places, and about the locals surrounding the Masjid and their likes and dislikes. He also explained to me as this is an airport area, police would often do a round and ask about people's ID (hence I was asked to share my ID earlier).
The Imam woke me up at dawn for an early morning prayer. We had breakfast together and after that I bid goodbye to him not unknown to both of us of a mutually formed friendship.
Epilogue
On reaching Kolkata, I reflected on the memories that I have gathered, on the new friendship that I built. All these were good memories, happy memories. But I couldn't forget what SpiceJet had done and the treatment I received. In one of our conversation with the customer care executives, I told them without any hesitation that they have lost a customer in me.
Problems are one thing but the way you deal with it is another.
I guess that I applies to both me as an individual and SpiceJet as a company.
1 yorum:
Thoroughly enjoyed reading your interesting experience.
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