Airports are fascinating
The people, the buzz, the retail, the bar and most
importantly the emotions, there’s something about them that makes life
beautiful.
My soul mate and I have spoken about it a few times, but it
was not until yesterday that I realized a lot of stories have born and died
there.
So the rendezvous with airports started while the Masters
programme was at its fag end.
The picking up of parents and friends parents from the
airport, the going away of friends, bidding them farewell teary eyed, those
were some really strong emotions that added so much to the relationship. It
almost seemed like those relationships were going to never end, it would either
be at the arrival or the departure.
But gradually reality did hit. The flying in and out was
infrequent, or the possibility to reach to catch a few last glimpses withered
away. What remained were just the memories!
The boyfriend back then was in a long distance relationship,
so the picking up or being picked up was the most exciting and the departure,
most painful. When the relationship ended a part of that strong bond with
airports died an untimely death, they were just an array of bitter emotions
that would make me cringe.
But what followed to cleanse all of that was a random July
night when I met someone who wasn’t arriving or departing, neither was I; we
met at the airport because it was halfway for both of us and thus seemed logical.
And then reverse psychology was infused on me. I am not complaining, inspite of
bad food and very random conversation; it started a chapter of my life that
healed me for good. It brought back the feeling of nostalgia and the longing
for airports.
What happens with everything in life is it kind of loses the
spark because we take it for granted and we stop appreciating the nuances of
the finer aspects. I thought I was too special to be trapped in that space but
was proved wrong. The set pattern was killing me, the norms were choking me to
death. Like a miracle an old friend shook me up. I took a flight to set myself
right. Yet again I did not feel anything at the airport.
When I arrived back in town, shed the extras was the mantra
and I have come almost 3/4TH of the way. It feels good; it feels
like I am the same person that I was. As if basking in that glory wasn’t enough
that like a destruction from the stories of Old Testament I was swept off my
feet. By who? Surprisingly, by happiness.
Consistently happy for a while ticks suspicion; I analyzed, hyper-analyzed,
tried taking online tests only to realize that my happiness is my own being,
infused by characters and circumstances but still my own.
There are things we
do we thought we never will. Never say never. It was thrown back at me. But it doesn’t
make me feel guilty, it has clarity, it has every miniscript on the table and
most importantly it is a high that’s positive, good for health!
With all of this at the back of my mind, I rushed to the
airport when a friend who was taking connecting flights said he has about an
hour to chill. It was like an adrenaline rush; The meeting was short and sweet,
with a couple of pani puris and sev puris. It was almost like we wanted to stretch
time. And then I bumped into another friend, not that I don’t meet him often
but it seemed like we were meeting after a long time, and like every story we
caught up on life and musings. Midst the catching up a child and father were
waiting at the lounge for mother to show up. These are times when the airport
fulfills you! The child super excited goes and hugs the mother. The mother who
looked tired beamed with joy.
We paid our bills, and with the hope that time stops and we can
catch up forever, we started walking towards home.
I got on to the auto, smiled to myself and mumbled, love is
sometimes an accident but falling in love with the airport all over again with
new stories definitely is to be cherished till the devil strikes.
