On my way from Delhi to Singapore I sat next to two beaming monks who were apparentlyflying for the first time. Besides serving ice cream on a stick without worrying aboutsticky trails, Singapore Airlines also provides each passenger with a screen on which wecan watch films of our choice. My monks were not sure how to handle their controllers, andaccepted their fate with a smile, settling in for an evening of Kung Fu. My fingers movedfaster than any heroic kick on their screen, choosing to skip channels in favour of alittle holiday romance. Ten minutes into the film, passions were flambéed. Myco-passengers’ screen hero could have been playing tiddlywinks for all the interestit generated. There we were, three of us craning to watch the action on my sizzlingscreen. It took all of five minutes to show them how to surf channels, a long time in thelife of a movie. By then the lovers on my screen had finished with their tumble, weremarried, and looked certain to edge into divorce. My monks sighed, resigned themselves todestiny and switched back to throwing punches.