Transit

The rough landing woke me up from slumber. The passengers around me were irate. Many were shouting at the crew. With groggy eyes I looked out the tiny glass window and saw only a white expanse. We were engulfed by thick white fog. It’s a miracle the captain managed to land with this near zero visibility. The crew were doing their best to mollify the angry passengers. It amuses me when people get angry at someone who neither is the cause of their problem nor has the solution to it. The passengers calmed down once the captain came out and apologized. It must’ve been his immaculate uniform. Anyways, thanks to him, people stopped whining and started getting off the plane.

The long immigration queue was a struggle. I don’t see the point of having swanky terminals when the transit time is so inordinately long. Our peripatetic masters are so enthusiastic when they announce e-visa and visa on arrival but there are not enough immigration staff to deal with the rush. The queue moved painfully slow. People were getting restless. I must admit I was getting a little fidgety. It was odd. I am usually a very patient person. After the painfully long wait when it was my turn, the immigration officer was indifferent to the point of being rude. He took his own sweet time to go through my immigration documents, mumbling something to himself in his language which sounded very much like racist slur. At the end he took one long hard look at me and gave a dismissive shrug before giving me back the papers. The whole thing was unpleasant. Were all the people in this place such xenophobic jerks?, I wondered. But, I mustn’t make such generalizations. Anyways, I have no right to complain. People in my homeland weren’t so welcoming towards foreigners either.

I made my way out of the terminal and called a ride. The journey here was made in such a hurry that I didn’t get time to make arrangements for my stay. Thankfully I knew some people here. Now I know it’s not proper to show up at someone’s door unannounced, but I knew this lovely couple here who wouldn’t mind. They were really nice people. So I was headed to their address.

I rang the doorbell and waited. I was excited to see them. We had really great time back in the days when we hung out together. “Door’s open… come in.”, I heard his familiar voice. I opened the door a walked into the sitting room. They were truly surprised to see me. When reality sunk in both came up to me and gave me a big warm hug.

“What!!! What are you doing here?? You’ve grown old!! And look at the mustache!!”, they were full of questions and observations. After a few minutes of excitement and hugs he put a hand on my shoulder, smiled at me and said, “It’s good to see you buddy!”. I was too. I was happy to be back with them. I missed them. “You must be tired… I’ll get you something to drink.”, she said and disappeared into the kitchen. When she was gone, he turned to me and asked the question he’d been wanting to ask.

“How did it happen? Was your journey peaceful?”. I sighed. It was better that she couldn’t hear. She didn’t have the stomach for these sort of things. “It was cancer… and it was painful.”, I paused before saying more. I saw the pain in his eyes contemplating what I told him. To put him out of it I added, “But I was happy… I got to say goodbye to my friends… the kids and the wife were there when I breathed my last. I am happy how it ended… and I am happy to meet you and mother after so long.”

She brought coffee for the three of us and we sat talking about everything that happened between their and my passing.