I'm letting my imagination run riot, but there's plenty of time for that. It's 9 a.m. on a chilly winter morning and I've (actually, there are others, too; but more on that later) been sitting in the airport for an hour, waiting for clearance to take off. The idle, and random, thoughts take my mind away from how painful it is to get up at 6 a.m. to go for an assignment that I wasn't even supposed to go on till late the previous evening. But what the hell. I'm about to go on a joyride, or rather, a joy flight, if you'll pardon the coinage, over Delhi in a corporate jet-and get a glimpse of how the other half live-so I'm determined not to let anything dampen my spirits; not even the hour-long wait.

I have seen these little "toy" planes parked at the airport several times, but flying in one is already proving to be a different experience altogether. The eight-seater twin-engine Hawker 850xp is such a bundle of surprises. I find myself a seat by the window and tie the belt for take off. There is none of those usual safety measure announcements before taking off, the seat belts are dripping luxury and the cockpit is in the direct line of my sight!

I look around. My co-passengers, mostly other journos like myself, are a happy group of people, evidently excited at the thought of what lies in store. Armed with boarding passes (yes, you need them for private planes as well if you're using the airport runway), it seems we are headed to some place else. After what seems an interminable wait, we board the plane.

The washroom is tucked away at the rear end of the plane, and there is ample storage space for hanging jackets and coats. There's even a little microwave, a sideboard full of white China and a draw-out fridge to store soft drinks in. Oh, why did I look that way? That microwave reminds me, by association, of pepperoni pizzas! I suddenly realise I have been rather quiet all this while, trying to absorb what I can of my surroundings (vast when I look out of the window, less so otherwise) but my peers from other media houses are more than making up for my reluctance to use my vocal cords. And since my hosts aren't likely to offer me a pizza, there's no point thinking about it anyway.

My colleague in office who covers aviation (and who I am filling in for) had briefed me on some technical aspects of planes and had even, helpfully, provided me with a small list of intelligent questions to ask. So, taking advantage of a pause in the general conversation around me, I seize the moment and let rip. Turning to Sean McGeough, Vice President, International Sales at Raytheon, I shoot off my first question; then the next; and then again... At the end, I ease myself back on my seat with a rather satisfied grin. "Think I pulled that off rather well," I tell myself and stretch forward. The legroom is tremendous. Travelling as I do in the cramped economy and low- cost flights, I had always wondered what it would be like to stretch out your feet while flying. Now I know; and I rather like the experience.

It's now time to return to terra firma. The pilot begins to descend and the familiar Delhi airport comes into view. The landing is a little rough and the plane wobbles a bit. But that's a minor hitch in an otherwise wonderful experience. Wouldn't it be nice to own one of these things? I could just fly off to Singapore or Dubai, raid the shops and come back with a jet full of goodies? There I go again... the Lord of Tartary syndrome, I think, as I head off into the airport terminal in search of pepperoni pizza, which, sadly, I do not find.

The Hawker 850: Add a personal touch to those boring business meetings by flying in a private corporate jet.