Flying, in a sense

I love airports. It might have to do with the fact that I love flying, but I really do love airports.

I love sitting outside the ‘Arrival’ area, watching people. I know it’s creepy, in fact a lot of people could be wondering ‘Ok who is this creepy girl and why is she watching me’, but I really can’t help myself. I smile when I watch the two little hyper boys run towards their grinning grandparents, each little boy attempting to push the heavy baggage carts. I tear up (just a little) as I watch aging parents embrace the son they probably haven’t seen for while as he walks out, probably just off a flight from the US. I scoff at the all white netas, the ones nobody knows, as they walk out with folded hands looking for the garlands that wont greet them, hoping that somebody will notice the useless posse of harried looking PA’s around them, and maybe give them some importance.

But of all the things the scene that I love most to watch are the ones which involve the shy married/engaged couple, probably a husband returning from a business trip, as he catches sight of his wife, the self-conscious smiles, the words of greeting, and then surprising both of them, the arm slung across her shoulders pulling her into his embrace, as they make their way home.

3 thoughts on “Flying, in a sense

  1. Quite an observing eye you have young lady. I saw that line which said “I love airports” and exclaimed, me too! But then the perspective was of the one among the countless passengers, which by the way is unique in its own way. But I must tell you that the other side of airports is equally amazing.

    You ever come to this part of the world, you have someone who can help you explore it if you’d like. The discipline and perfect rhythm of beautiful machinery handled by a mixture of neat-and-clean-highly-paid and the dirty-with-dust-lowest-paid humans. This is probably the only country that still lets you experience it with such detail and freedom.

  2. I always tear up when I see these young newly wed brides at airports. They still have the bangles and mehendi on their hands and arms and they try so hard to look brave but they keep hugging their mothers over and over again, stalling for just a few more seconds.

    On the other hand, I don’t like children at airports. Especially the hyper ones!

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