There is something fascinating about airports, a noticeable pattern of human behaviour.
People rushing to their terminals, saying last minute good byes, some troubled with their overweight luggage, some lost, some sad, some happy. This sight of emotions is so overwhelming, looks like some of them are escaping life, moving on, looking forward to a new beginning. There’s a special spark of hope brightening their face. Others are a bit disappointed and dull on leaving behind things. Broken hearts, unfulfilled desired, empty dreams, lost ambitions. I was one such person, a part of this crowd while boarding my plane for India.
During a transition at Moscow, I finally had some time for myself. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat quietly in the corner at a colorful cafe. It was drizzling outside, I looked out of the window, paused and reflected on life for a few hours.
On hearing the last call for my flight, I rushed through the bustling corridors of the busy airport. The smiling crew greeted the passengers into the flight and within minutes we were above the clouds. It was late evening and I looked outside the window in the horizon. The dusk above the grayish clouds, gleaming orange and the as the plane move color slowly started fading.
Next morning, as the flight landed I woke in New Delhi.