Airport.

When I entered the airport, it was already way past midnight. I have always hated going around midnight to the airport, waiting up to the wee hours of the morning to catch a flight. It was one of those nights again. This time I was leaving my favourite city for one more time. It has been continuing for quite some time now, years as you may say. As soon as I reached the airport, I was looking for that well-known coffee outlet. I never take coffee in a coffee outlet, the man at the counter handed me my favourite Darjeeling tea equipped with a couple of spices. At 1:43 AM in the morning that felt kissing the lips of my imaginary loved one.
I took the cup of tea and went ahead to take a seat at the lounge. I always chose to seat from where I could see the apron outside. A couple of Airbuses were carefully parked. The lounge was strangely a little less filled tonight. I never realized when I had finished that cup of tea when I suddenly came back to that figment of reality when a young boy, hardly looking to be five, suddenly bumped his fist on my left knee. I looked at him, and I asked him to sit beside me. I asked him where his parents were. He pointed out to his mother sitting on the opposite row. She smiled at me awkwardly, probably trying to apologize to me for his son’s erratic behaviour. I asked him his name, but the kid ran to his mother’s lap. I got up from my seat to put my cup in the trash bin. It was 2:15 AM. I still had an hour to check-in. I next went to the most-awaited place.
As I stepped inside the medium-sized oxford bookshop, I started going through the first shelf to my left. It was filled with my books, yes, the ones I have written and co-authored in the last 5 years. I have never read my own books, except the very first one. Ever since I got out of my doctorate course, all I have done is to write. Life hacks and beyond. As I was looking at the cover illustration of my best seller- I heard someone call out my name. I turned back to see, it was that kid again. I felt a little irritated. But I still brought a smile and asked him, “Do you want one of these books?” He looked at me and handed me a small note. I opened the pink colour post-it slip, and it read, ” I still have the first copy of your first book- I recognized you at once, but you didn’t. I am the one who sent you a letter 5 years back after reading your first book. Yes, I am that one.” I finished reading it, and when I looked up, the kid was gone.
For the next 5 minutes, I went gushing through my memory, to recollect that event. I couldn’t. I thought of going back to that lounge to see if they were still there. Nah, they weren’t. It was 2:37 AM. I went back to the book store, and I picked up a Noah. I went ahead to the smoking zone beside the men restroom. I lighted up the last of my Marlboro. I took a drag, and I started thinking again. I remember my first book release ceremony – was held at the Oxford bookstore on the pavement back in Central Kolkata. 2024 it was. The crowd was medium- mainly comprising of the publisher’s company and a few close friends. I don’t remember seeing an unknown face in that crowd except for the anonymous person who took an autographed copy of the book. I don’t remember the face. I tried remembering the name, I wrote. I just remembered it must have been something starting with ‘R’. I took the last drag, stabbed the butt, washed my face and went ahead to the check-in queue. Closing in on 3 AM.
When I finally got my boarding pass- it was 3:30 AM. I went ahead and eventually took a seat in front departure gate. I had come to Kolkata this time for submitting my final draft on my sixth book. I took a long breath and stared blankly outside. I took my phone out, and I browsed through the Whats app chat list. No one was online. A sudden gush of loneliness rushed in. I closed my eyes, and I felt a peaceful easy feeling.
When I woke up, it was gone. My flight was gone. I had missed my flight and by a long margin. I didn’t know what to do. I took my bag, and I went ahead to the check-in counter and asked about my luggage, which by then had reached Mumbai. I was about to book another ticket to Bombay when I suddenly remembered that name. I smiled, and I got up. I realized it should mean nothing to me now.
I boarded the next flight to Bombay out of my favourite city again- this time only to write once more.