Airport Musings!

Image result for bismillah calligraphy
In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful 

It is just another day, any day. 

Amidst the organized commotion, the air is thick with echoes of conversations, as the loud voice through the speaker empowers, announcing the departure of a flight.

You don’t need a signboard to tell you, that you are in an airport, you simply know. 

There is a vibe, an ambiance only native to an airport, that screams at you. 

Well, if the humans juggling with multi emotions dragging trolleys laden-ed with luggage aren’t a tell a tale, the vibe sure does convey the fact that you are in an airport.


Airports are a world of their own. 

A world that is the door to places around our world. 

A world that lives through a myriad of smiles, tears, anxiety, excitement, joy, freedom, and so many name less emotions. 

A world that homes countless stories of new beginnings, 

of painful farewells, 

of jovial welcomes, 

and others that we don’t know.

Despite where in the world, all airports are the same.(Not in infrastructural context, and you know that *eye roll*) 


They have the same threads of core, that lives through day and night, breathing in all that it witnesses.  

Nationalities may be different, the working efficient or not, the infrastructure brilliant or not but the emotions are all same, human. 

I am always overwhelmed when I am at an airport.

Watching every face wear a different expression,

some worn with exhaustion

while some beaming with excitement

and then there are those,

who are permanent fixtures,

part of the airport,

part of this world.

For whom, it is routine to witness this everyday,

it is part of their work to watch people, 

slid from different time zones,

travel from across the globe. 


A glance to peek at all that the door, the airport where they work leads to. 

Their world, where the day and night is only known of through the change in sky.

Where it’s alright, if someone is asleep in the chairs when the sun is up high, 

or when it’s dead in the night,

and there are queues of people buzzing inside. 

And once you step out of the glass doors(it’s always glass door, innit?)

You are back to the regular, but it feels slightly different. 

With something within you shift, 



and maybe sometimes damaged, 

to be healed by the world outside. 

You might smile at the tale I have spun on the regular airport. 

But, you can’t really deny, 

it really is a world of it’s own we never pry. 








Happy Sunday y’all!

I hope you have an amazing week ahead!


Until Next Time!













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