However, since the last two years, a large number of restrictions have been placed ,on what you can carry and what you cannot carry, in your cabin baggage, in particular.

Here are some hints for having hassle free holidays.

Check in early

Gone are the days, when you kind of rushed in balancing your hand baggage just as they were about to deactivate the tunnel leading to the plane. Today, the key words are baggage and security. It can take you as much as an hour, just getting through security, before you can go sit outside the prescribed gate number.

You kind of line up in queues that move slowly under signs that say "Passengers ONLY beyond this point". Kind of reduces the possibility of traumatic goodbyes. The first things they ask you to do is to remove your shoes, keys,wallets etc and place them in a tray. Then you are asked to remove any digital cameras , laptops etc that you may have , and these are placed in another tray. Finally, you place your cabin baggage, in some more trays. (Some tray manufacturer in the US, or should it be China, has probably minted a fortune...)

Women are asked to separate their make up stuff and put it in Ziploc bags . The same goes for water bottles. The Ziploc bag is put in one of the aforementioned trays for x-ray perusal.

All these trays then pass through an X-ray /Infrared type check, across a conveyor belt that kind of passes through a tunnel, so to speak. A trained security officer observes all your belongings with a trained eye, ignoring your clumsy packing technique, and may ask you to open up any piece of luggage , to check what is actually there. They don't actually see the detailed item. Its kind of what you see in a weather report satellite picture; certain areas filled with shapes of certain colors, which indicate something to the officers.

In the meanwhile, you are asked to pass through , what I call a security doorway, which beeps to indicate the presence of something that, shouldn't be there.

I had an Asian Lady on my flight wearing her traditional jewelery, which set off, an almighty beep. They asked her to remove the stuff for checking, and she said that she could not, as per their custom. Sometimes, some of these jewelery items are worn at the time of marriage and never removed, they being a sign of matrimony and family status.

At this point, as a whole bunch of young, old, elderly and fashionable types shuffle along in bare feet, waiting to get to the other side of the tunnel, you hear a booming voice saying "female assistance required !", which results in the Asian lady being asked to stand on some pre-marked sign, and then she is examined by a lady security officer. (This happens on a sort of center stage , affording some entertainment to the waiting passengers, who pass you on either side. ).

Then starts what can only be described as a ballet.

First you hold your arms out, palms upwards, and they move a probe all across you, under your armpits , back and front. A beep elicits a quick look, then a look of relief as they sight your necklace.

You then repeat the thing with palms down.

They then have you stand with each foot forward in turn, and the probe is moved between your legs , below your waist, and at the back of your legs.

I actually saw this happen to an entire family of women, and although they took it very sportingly and co-operated well, I actually asked the officer lady if it wasn't too strenuous doing this , every so many minutes.

It was almost like a cooperative dance effort; the passengers took the positions and the steps, and the officer lady did the ballet, gracefully bending and turning and twirling around the passenger. Several times an hour.

You finally emerge victorious, but semi frustrated on the other side, amongst a bunch of passengers all trying to put on their shoes, and repack their non-objectionable belongings.

This entire process can take as much as a one hour wait, as the flight time approaches, and passenger crowd increases. A friend of mine missed her flight just standing in line for her turn at security. Checking in early guarantees that you make your flight.

Avoid large tubes of stuff

Taking big tubes of sunscreen and moisture lotions in your carry-on baggage is a bad idea. Anything up to 100 mls is supposed to be OK. Anything bigger than that, might see you , offering all those Bath and Body Works goodies, as it were, to the nation. Large toothpastes are out. Someone I know was carrying ready made lemon juice in a small container the shape of a lemon, like you get in the grocery store. The idea was to ask for cold water and make your own sugar free lemon drink during the flight. The quantity of this thing was just 100 mls, within rules; but it had to be thrown away as the security folks got a bit unnerved and objected.

If you are carrying any medication , in either tube form or any other form, you need to carry with you, at all times, a doctor's recent prescription, in original.

If you think the three hour flight is going to give you a good opportunity to do your nails, think again. Nail Clippers, Nail files, scissors etc, are declared a national security threat , and must be checked in with the other baggage.

I traveled back recently from Singapore, and before boarding, was singled out in security and asked to open the toilet case where I had a tiny nail clipper. Actually, it is always in that bag, and I had forgotten all about it.

So they had 3 people, 2 guys and a lady examining my nail clippers, then I was directed to a desk where they did a form in triplicate , with details about my boarding pass,seat, destination , and other luggage tags. I was then given a copy and told to collect the nail clipper with my other checked-in baggage at San Francisco.

That was the last I saw of the nail clipper.

I certainly did not scrounge around for it amongst all kinds of alarming luggage as it circled around on the conveyor belt, on arrival, at San Francisco.

Who knows? The site of a guy, lifting other peoples bags here and there, moving aside luggage belts and sticking is hand under duffel bags in his quest for the eternal nail clipper, would have probably triggered another security check.

There was no StarPlus with its sans's and bahus, no ESPN with guys continuously running between wickets in some country trying to beat some other country, no nothing. Only Doordarshan. So the younger ones saw cartoons, documentaries on Nehru , punctuated with " Amchi Mati Amchi Mansa" the program with the highest farmer TRP's. The kids would draw a card at home, attentively color it till the pencil pierced through the paper; never mind.... ; it was given and accepted with much grace and appreciation . If you had a garden, you plucked a flower, and clutching it as if it was gold, took it to school, to present it to your class teacher. Paanch rupaiyya, ek phool was blasphemy.

Once folks got a whiff of the impending globalization, we were suddenly subject to an onslaught of Mothers, Fathers and Valentines Day. Not to speak of Friendship Day. Shopkeepers , whose limit of ambition had reached up to selling Maggie Noodles, suddenly started stocking, satin ribbons to be sold by the metre, for Friendship day. Nine shining inches of a silky ribbon , when tied on the hands of someone , you probably met only when you wanted some class notes, signified eternal friendship !

Just in case your interest waned, or you appeared to be responding to your parents suggestion of not wasting money on such things, the TV channels ensured that you did the stuff , lest you be branded a kaku type...(unfortunate name, that).

I thought time had come to define certain indigenous days , more in keeping with our Desi ethos.

BNBC: Be Nice to the Bus Conductor Day

My eternal tribute to the BEST bus service of Mumbai. the buses may creak, rock, rattle, the driver may do the same, but the bus takes you from A to B, while the conductor exhibits an uncanny ability to slither through a packed bus from back to front, without outraging anyone (or anyones modesty). (Suggested activities : carry exact change, share a chocolate/chikki with the conductor, get up when he tells you to vacate a ladies' seat (without an argument or frown). Say Thank you to the driver and conductor when you get off. Ram-Ram is even better. See how he goes into first gear with new vigor on the Jogeshwari Vikhroli Link Rd.

HRD: Hamara Rasta Day

Please note that HRD has no connection AT ALL with a ministry of the same name. On this one day, folks should desist from saying "Kya ye aap ke baap ka rasta hai ?". (Suggested activities : take a detour around the bhajiwalla, instead of leaping close to the tomatoes; shake your head instead of mouthing something bad; exchange high-fives with the vadawallah after you politely move aside to let a truck pass a foot away from the stall.)

HD: Hornless Day

There are a variety of ways one can observe this. Keep your vehicle at home and walk. Be creative in communication through your vehicle window, if you are forced to use the vehicle at all. Glaring at a taxi driver and saying "dikhta nahi kya ?" does NOT earn you any points.... Drive at a sedate pace, so others are forced to drive the same way. Enjoy the scenery, the trafficjams, the dug up roads, the wandering bovine population looking for a relic of the past - a blade of green grass....

L+ Security day

This will be ONE day on which the X, Y, and Z security types are left to themselves. The several jeeps, constables, inspectors, lights on vehicles and sirens can be put to much better use. And L+ will be a day dedicated to the Ladies Security . Remember Chivalry ? Well, Let the ladies get into the bus ahead of you. If you see someone pretending to be thinner than he is, and trying to squeeze through to the front of the bus through a congregation of ladies, make him remember his "nani", a super L+ lady. If you are traveling at night in the suburban train, travel after 7:30pm in the ladies dabba, not because its allowed, but beacuse the few ladies who travel late may feel they have someone to help them. If you see guys whizzing past on cycles and motorcycles dangerously close to ladies with glistening long mangalsutras, take a diving leap to stop the thieves, in a manner that Moammed Kaif would approve ....

BBD: BhajiwaliBai Day

Avoid the Bhajiwalla Bhaiyyas (BB) on this day. Buy your vegetables only from the bahji ladies on this day. Notice how you get more of bhaji, suddenly. Say Mavshibai, and ask her where her hometown is. Comment on how smart her son is (who is arranging the lemons artistically), and pretend NOT to notice as she adds ONE more sheaf of Kothmeer in your bag.

ID: Immobile Day

Leave your mobile at home, along with the hands free kit. All those who think you are mad when they see you talking and laughing with yourself on the road, will be reassured. Music in the cacophony of buses is sometimes OK; but have you heard a Sonata in 392 Major, where "Saare jahan se achcha", "just chill chill" and "kajra Re" continuously play while you are trying to shout the name of the bus stop to the conductor ? And sometimes everyone speaks so loudly on the phone, that you wonder why the require a phone at all; just holler. All Talk time is permanently free.

Class 7 day (C7D)

The immediate consequence of everyone getting hyper about classes 10 and 12 is that once the children go to class 8, parents get into PUSH Mode. Free time from 5 am to 8 am ? No Problem. Join a class. Last years highest was 99.9. Its always "WE mange More" (and I am not talking about the selection committee for cricket). Study, Study, beat your buddy, you must get 99.9999. On the occasion of C7D, take the children on an excursion somewhere. Honor the sports kids in your school. Applaud the artists and admire their art work and performances. Have some non-engineers, non-doctors, and some such , come and chat with the kids on what they do. Get your kids to visit an institute for differently-enabled special kids. Play cricket with them . Life consists of SO many things other than Engineers, doctors, computer scientists, and managers....

LTD: Local Train Day

They are the Lifeline. While we cling in doorways, squeeze into compartments, specialize in saying "zara sarkoon ghya " (just push that side a bit...), so one more can lay claim to 36 square inches of plywood , day after day, month after month, the motorman simply follows the Bhagwad Gita ; he continues to do his work, without expectation of any reward. Instead, whenever there is a train strike, and some senseless people take their anger out on trains, these guys get beaten up. NO one, and i repeat , no one, ever, waves , smiles, and says thank you to them, when they stand taking a breather at the terminus , in the doorway of their train cabin, waiting for the next signal to fall. So, on an LTD, meet your motorman, wish him well, introduce your children to him, and tell him you admire his difficult job. If he has an off period, have an impromptu chai with him along with the people in the railway dabba.

Notwithstanding warnings from folks decrying this choice of time of travel, Goa being very hot, this being peak of the Off-season etc etc, flights to Goa were completely packed. With mostly Indians. Lots of children .

Despite Goa being touted as a destination of choice that draws German charter flights like a Goan to his feni, the airport in Goa remains an unassuming type. No aerobridges, tunnels etc. You get off the plane and sort of trudge into an enclosure which quickly leads you outside the airport, without endless corridors with endless signs . No one looks at you with suspicion as you pull your luggage (the current style elsewhere being, treat travelers in an Guilty-until-proven-innocent manner, all in the name of security.).

You have a choice of prepaid taxis to take you to your destination, ours being Panjim. Immediately outside the airport, you see the moderate intercity traffic, and spying buses trundling in the distance and true to our middle class values, we do a fast trudge with our bags to the main road and back. The buses are decently crowded with folks who are NOT on holiday, and going about their work with baskets and stuff, and since we do a lot of push-push-shove-shove-squeeeeze-through-to-the-exit-stuff in Mumbai, we decide to treat ourselves to a taxi in Goa, and pretend we are on a five star vacation. Turns out this was to be one of the two taxi rides we took in our entire 5 day stay...

Goa to me, earlier was a bunch of cities interspersed in a wealth of small villages dotted with greenery. The earlier lack of multistoreyed dwellings was admirable. The biggest difference this time was there are no well defined village boundaries any more. There seems to be some sort of boom in ex-village construction. Some of the older mangalore-tiled houses with intricate trelisses and bowers of greenery leaning over imposing entrances have given way to cement-concrete monstrosities.

Some unavoidable things like industrial areas have come up, but they still try and blend in with the surroundings, moderating their external display, so-to-speak. Earlier, 25 years ago, as you entered the main village area, you saw a nice football field , a church and temple, where you read announcements of impending matches with a visiting village team from elsewhere; folks landed up to cheer their team, to be followed by a goodwill feni session post match, possibly with a great meal.

Today, what really strikes you is the number of houses in the village with doors locked from outside. My friend from Goa, who we met after 25 years , tells us that this doesn't necessarily mean that people have migrated ; it also could mean, that someone is out for shopping etc, and IT IS NO LONGER SAFE TO LEAVE YOUR HOUSE UNLOCKED IF YOU ARE STEPPING OUT FOR A WHILE. The possibility of people from the countryside going to work in Panjim also cannot be denied, given the development of educational institutions over the years , and the transport infrastructure.

(We in Mumbai , who travel 80km daily , packed liked sardines , simply to go to work, cannot really say a thing. Traveling to work in Goa is a very civilized affair. Buses are generally going from point A to Z, and anyone along the way , at any point, stops the bus anywhere and gets on it. You politely wave, the driver politely stops, the conductor shouts out the area names while leaning from the steps, just to introduce some excitement, and "transport" happens...).

Roads in Goa are wonderful. Mostly 2 lane highways, sorry, roads. I don't recall seeing single speed limit sign during my entire stay. Everyone drives as fast as they want. Our taxi driver did a 1 hour drive in 35 minutes flat. The approved thing is to overtake huge vehicles at great speed. The only time you cannot do that is when a motorcycle with a pillion rider is simultaneously trying to overtake you at the same time, irrespective of the width of the road.

I didn't experience a single pot hole. Goa has a climate similar to Mumbai. Yes, I know the density of traffic in Mumbai is huge. But here in Mumbai potholes are a way of life. Goa is dotted with new roundabouts where traffic gracefully swirls around before getting into a frenzied acceleration, and I admire this effort by the government to temper as well as beautify in one shot.

Given the 25 years that elapsed after my previous visit, one thing that reassures me is the effort being put , in maintaining the greenery in Goa. Goa is still lush with mangroves, trees, and i suppose individual riches are still counted in terms of how much land you have and how many mango, cashew and coconut trees crown it. You notice "houses nestled amongst trees" as opposed to trees decorating the house. Which is how it was, and how it should be.

Goa tourism tries to do a commendable job running various tours. The communication interface when you call from out of state is good. Relevant information, quick information, someone has some great ideas about how websites can be usefully planned.

The problem starts in "Real-Time."

Assorted bookings are made, coupons given for trips on buses, but the communication infrastructure, network wise, is simply , not there. The centralized booking people convey arbitrary bookings to the people at the tour start site. One feels they get so carried away with the IT aspect of the whole thing, that they simply forget to pass on the information to people at the bus-level.

And so, for every tour we took, there was a lot of frustrated yelling, discussion, cursing the GTDC people. Walking back and forth to counters. On finally resolving the issue, we would still keep our time everywhere as defined in the brochure; which leads me to believe that these mess-ups are all planned/built-in and taken care off by the GTDC system. Absolutely shameless and amazing.

Waves of anger and frustration, enveloped by the breezes of the peaceful Goa countryside, soon gave way to a bus , speeding along, playing the latest music, interspersed with pithy comments from the tour guide. One cannot help but smile , when , on explaining the importance of Aguada fort, where there is a jail, the tour guide PROUDLY mentions that 2 very prominent criminals managed to escape from there. There is even a bust of one of the criminals , in the fancy restaurant where he was finally arrested.

Folks in Goa have an inborn environmental awareness. There are several watchdog organizations today that ensure that planted trees exceed cut trees during any construction activity. One is delighted to see inland waterways, and mangroves ; driving inland in the hills, pineapples bought from local chaps certainly taste different to those I have eaten so far; much more sweet.

Old women hawkers on the streets and markets of Panjim, sell raw cashews and Goa's local mangoes. A glance across the hills emphasizes the insistence of non-highrises. The coastal regulations rules prohibit construction within 500 meters of the coastline. But sadly, as elsewhere in India, (but to a much lesser extent) these rules are flouted by appealing to higher (?) authorities at the Center. Witness the Tata housing in the Betim Hills. JRD would NEVER have approved.

The old quarter of Panjim, now being treated as a Heritage area, has these amazing "gulleys", (small pathways), with even more amazing houses with intricate carvings and trellises, and a very unique way of announcing the owners name, in a blue delft like plate fitted into the wall outside. Dark blue, brick red etc appear to be the favorite colors of buildings, and white comes a close second . These areas are dotted with home style restaurants , serving typical Goan food, and many are written up and recommended in things like the lonely Planet Guide.

Lonely or not, recommended or not, we were treated to a lunch in one of these, by our Goan friend towards the end of our trip. Fish Curry and rice being the staple, this place excels in serving various varieties of fish. The non vegetarians amongst us, ate with single minded devotion to the plate in front, oblivious to the coming and going of electricity, conversation, etc. Plates were wiped clean with "pao" till they gleamed, and fingers licked till there was nothing more to be licked. Amazing food, at even more amazing prices; bringing out th Goans' natural predeliction for the "good times" to be enjoyed by one and all.

Which finally brings us to Sussegaad. I am convinced that after such great meals of Fish Curry and rice, a person gets so satiated, that a short nap (after a drink of chilled beer...) is on order. Maybe its the quality of rice, the lush quality of the coconut used, or the omega 3 magic of the fish fat, but most businesses in Goa come to a halt between 1pm and say 4pm. This is Sussegaad time. Relax. Take a nap. Release your tensions.

And then there is the Ferry. Despite the Panjim Mandovi river bridge spanning across Panjim and Betim , most people still like to travel across the river by Ferry. On my last trip to Goa, I remember paying for it. Since 2002 this is now free, except for vehicles with wheels for which there is a minor fee. And so you see tons of two wheelers emerging , as if from the river, when the Ferry docks at Panjim or Betim. The heady combination of sea smells, fish and diesel fumes probably creates the right incentive for rushing to have a cold chilled beer /feni wherever you plan to go next.

On our last day in Panjim we were looking for a place that sells a typical Goan sweet called "Dose"; I may have the spelling wrong, but folks, its the taste that matters. Our Goan friend served this to us over tea at her riverfront living room in Betim. This resulted in us depleting her entire supply of this sweet. A deadly combination of gram flour (chana flour), coconut, and local jaggery (probably toddy based) this melt-in-your-mouth stuff has not been given the publicity it deserves. Goa Tourism, WAKE UP!!!

It was 1 pm when our taxi taking us to the airport came. On hearing about our quest, the driver, trying to beat the Sussegaad timings, drove in a frenzy in the opposite direction to the airport, to take us to a shop where he knew this was sold. He then came after us to see whether we were able to get it, and then even moved the car and parked it where we didn't have to walk back a big distance to get back in again.

Izzat ka swaal tha. (To those unfamiliar with this, it means "it was question of goan prestige...").

And so we were back on the way to the airport. Whizzing past, trying to beat out previous timing between Panjim and the airport. Maybe the driver was yet to have his lunch. Maybe he wanted to get back to a Sussegaad afternoon over fish curry, rice and feni.

Like I said, there are NO speed limits. Maybe I will recommend him to Michael Schumaker. And maybe Schumaker will take him, provided, of course , he comes along with the fish curry and rice.

And a picture of Schumaker winning his races and getting doused by a bottle of feni in Monaco, is too much to imagine.

Time for Sussegaad.