Airport

Faces. Happy faces and sad faces. Anxious faces and worried faces. Faces glowing with excitement, faces dimmed with despair. Hundreds of faces and hundreds of lives; hundreds of stories, hundreds of emotions, and hundreds of light bulbs. Yes, light bulbs. It was around 8:30 in the evening and here I was, standing in bright light, totally exposed, among hundreds of strangers at the airport arrival lounge.

As much as airports fascinate me, equally, I find them confusing. They make me wonder. Like, where to go? Where’s the washroom? Where am I supposed to wait? What do those big black screens flashing numbers indicate?

 Or, why is coke’s disposable and club sandwiches so expensive than usual here at the airport? And that one particular fear that always get to me: How am I going to find my person that I’ve come for? Or how are they going to know where I am? What if I am waiting in the wrong lounge? What if they never found me? What if I got lost somewhere here? –Pure paranoia. Childish paranoia.

So yeah, here I was, with that particular fear, standing consciously in the middle. Her flight’s time was 8:45, so I decided to take a seat at the waiting instead of making a fool of myself. So, very carefully I walked to the series of jet blue seats that were fixed to the ground –smart, I complimented –and joined other people who were already seated there. Just as I sat down, I secretly expressed my dismay at the plastic seats. Couldn’t they have kept foamy couches instead? That would’ve been more comfortable. Totally inconsiderate management. I took my compliment back. And probably I wasn’t the only one who found those plastic seats uncomfortable. The uncle sitting next to me had the same annoyed expression. Or maybe, I was over-thinking, just so I may not feel alone.

Actually, airport is the only place where you can never be alone. People are continuously coming and going, arriving and departing; personifying our world, our lives. Smiles exchanged at the arrival, tears shed at the departure; like happiness is shared when a new member is born, and despair is absorbed when a dear one dies. From one destination to another; lives in constant motion…

My thought processes were interrupted by the loud cries of a kid –such a shrill irritating voice it was! I couldn’t help but turn around to see what’s wrong with her. Dressed in a light blue printed frock, she had tears rolling down here plump cheeks. Her hair which was a mixture of golden and copper color was tied neatly in two ponies. I would’ve called her cute had she not been crying like this. I saw her mother and immediately realized from where the girl has inherited such beautiful hair. She called a boy who was playing at the elevators; he was most definitely her elder brother. The mother asked him to take his little sister to the elevators. And I already guessed the reason for why she must be crying. He held her tiny pink hand in his with affection, and walked her to the elevators. For some unknown reason, I followed them with my gaze. They stepped on the elevator together with a bunch of other crazy children. I watched in amusement, how her tears vanished, her lips twitched and curved up into a smile –the smile was distracted when for a second she lost her balance, her brother quickly took her hand again– the smile returned, and I smiled with her. It’s true; sometimes all we need is that one hand to hold –that one hand, which could save us from falling. Sometimes all we need is that assurance that at least somebody’s there to watch over us. A little assurance, that no matter what, that one hand will always be there, to guide us out of dark, to help us walk through the foggy lanes, to mend us and help us run in one piece all over again. It’s true, that one hand can really save us from falling…

They came running and screaming in joy from the other elevator, debating over who will push the luggage trolley when grandfather would arrive. I smiled again. Those kids over there represented a part of my childhood that is long lost…

Hundreds of shades of life; all exhibited together at one place.

My eyes were moist, because when I looked up to see who it was, the picture was blurry. It took me a little time to realize that she had finally arrived, and had found me.