Passengers-My story that began on a night

It had been raining heavily that afternoon. Dad was persistent that I should not go but I insisted.

AI-890 Ranchi- Delhi-Mumbai

Leaving home is never a good feeling even after you have been in and out for more than 6 years now. Somewhere it always aches and you can only fathom the vexation when you are away. It’s been 7 days and the warmth of my city was still not ready to leave. I wanted to stand there and look at the sky; my empyrean of my dreams, my people, my land. I wanted to take in the aroma and drown in the feeling of home-ness.

Mom please I want to take admission in Mumbai. I want to go away from home. I was 18 and I wanted liberation. That was 6 years ago.

Passengers are requested to move towards the boarding area. Boarding has begun for Flight AI-890 for Delhi. The announcement brought me back from the bi-lanes of reminiscence.

I bid goodbye to my ever teary eyed parents. Parents and their love for children!

The air was thin and there were heavy turbulence outside. The rumbling air-craft did scare many a soul. The gravity of situation was known only when we were told that the flight was being re-routed to Jaipur and suddenly we were passengers to a different destination. The weather was very uncertain and unpredictable.

Life is just like a journey through the turbulence.

There is always something good about the journeys. You make acquaintances and it’s good to see people opening up to one another. After all we are humans. I could hear little murmurs that turned into giggles and then an outcry about time. They were buoyant & innocent people around. Look deeply into every eye and there is a story; story of love, grief, triumphant, failure. It’s a different story each time.

They were passengers and I was one of them. Whatever might have been going in our lives, this was one moment when we had similar needs. One situation was binding us all together. We were united and this union was resonating the humanity that is deeply seeded in us beneath the layers of muck.

People come together in times of grief.

A 4 hour journey stretched to 11 hours. We left for Delhi and around 2 AM I reached Mumbai. It had been raining and my bed was all that I desired. I looked around. It was middle of the night and everything and everybody was in a cocoon except for the hustle of passengers who had de-planed at CSIA. They were happy faces, distressed by the turn of events. This will get antiquated soon, I know.  7 hours into the day, they will be telling stories. I smiled and moved away.

Excuse me, where do we get autos from?

The voice was humble and I looked back. Something was in that moment, in those eyes.

I showed him the way and to my surprise we were passengers to the same destination; in reality and in life. I offered him a ride and in those 15 minutes that we were together, our hearts ached. It wanted to scream with ecstasy.

It is funny, how life throws happiness in crumbs and bits, isn’t it?  I have been in relationships before. I have sailed through rough sea and smooth ripples. I have seen the horizon turn blue and orange.

Let’s meet; and thus started a new beginning. Once a co-passenger on board AI-890, was now a companion in life. Maybe my heart wanted that.

We kept meeting and life was good. I was basking into the colors of rainbow. I was exhilarated. But life kicks you when you least expect it to. I realized that we hardly spoke. And when we did, it only had him into the center. He was plagiarized by self obsession. He did not love me as an individual but the pleasures of our bodies hitting together. He was addicted and sick.

Suddenly, the humble voice that came from behind turned coarser. The pink and orange all turned grey slowly. It was all but a piece of lie. Time had unearthed the truth. It was a fine web and I was being strangled. He was a compulsive liar. And respect was a foreign language. Commitment, a farfetched dream! I was just another achievement in his life; a trophy that he could shove into the face of people who questioned him on why his first relationship did not work. I defy to be objectified.

You cannot breakup at such trivial issues. Adjust and compromise why won’t you? You know how I am.

He couldn’t accept being dumped. It was a blow to his male chauvinist heart. He felt I would never leave, he is a successful man and women need financial security. True that is to one extent but he forgot that one, who builds her security, is the women of heart that’s rock solid. The unwavering attitude that she bears keeps her alive and confident.

I am not the weakling. I will not let you hurt me.

I looked around, and I found myself aboard the same flight. Flight to uncertainty!

I looked around. Masks! Every face had a mask. Look deeper and you can see the dark tanned skin. The stories that I was reading a while ago, were stories built against lies, deceit and treachery. They were beautiful faces all masked up. Truth lay hidden.  That night had changed so much of my perspective towards life. The chain of events that had triggered had taught me lessons.

Don’t go today. Weather is not good for travelling. Wish I had taken his advice.

Life is a journey and we meet people as we cross milestones. Some tread a mile along; some are faint silhouettes fading behind. But the underline is that we have to keep moving irrespective of the hurt. And as I said, look into the eyes and it’s always a different story. This was my story of the night. My eyes will be full of suspicion.

The understatement is that we are Passengers to our own destination.