Destiny or Accident?

Episode: 8 || Discovery of Truth

"If you don't stand for something,
you will fall for anything."

Around 4 pm, Advika, Chandu, and Karna trundled their bags toward the airport, a realm where the ordinary met the extraordinary. Karna's eyes widened like a child's at a carnival, darting from one spectacle to another. He was mesmerized by the glowing screens that flashed enigmatic symbols, the conveyor belts that paraded luggage like an endless procession of burdens, and the sprawling architecture—a labyrinth of glass and steel that seemed to stretch into infinity. The airport hummed with an otherworldly energy, a ceaseless symphony of movement and sound that painted a tapestry of modern marvels before him.

At the bag check-in, Advika and Chandu handed over their IDs and boarding passes with practiced ease. But when it was Karna's turn, he hesitated like a traveler lost in a foreign land, unsure of the ritual before him. From behind, Chandu whispered, "Just hand them the papers and smile like you know what's going on. It's all part of the process." With a careful hand, Karna offered the ID—procured by Chandu's clever 'jugaad'—to the airline staff, who swiftly exchanged it for a boarding pass. Karna, still slightly befuddled, turned to his companions and asked, "What should I do with this?"

Advika, laughing, linked her arm with his, guiding him toward the escalator. Karna's heart did a little jig at the simple gesture. Chandu, striding ahead with a backpack that Karna assumed was filled with work essentials, explained, "It's your boarding pass."

Karna's confusion deepened. "But what about the one we gave them?" Advika, guiding him onto the moving escalator, explained with a gentle laugh, "That was a ticket. This boarding pass is your golden ticket to board the plane."

Chandu added, turning back to face him, "A boarding pass is a promise—a guarantee they'll let you on the plane. No pass, no ride." Karna nodded, the concept settling in.

At the security checkpoint, Karna found himself in the midst of a peculiar ritual. Passengers methodically shed their shoes and belts, placing their belongings into trays with the solemnity of a sacred rite. Bewildered, Karna whispered to Chandu, "Are we preparing for some sort of ritual? Why are they removing their shoes?"

Advika, multitasking as she removed her belt and stashed her phone and Chandu's headphones in a tray, replied, "It's for security, Karna. They need to ensure we're not carrying anything dangerous. It's just a precaution."

Chandu, stepping through the metal detector with a grin, quipped, "Yeah, because the real threat is someone sneaking in a butter knife. Just do as the Romans do... or as the airport security does, in this case." Karna hesitated, a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face. Mimicking their actions, he clumsily removed his shoes and fumbled with the unfamiliar fastenings of his clothes, feeling like a participant in an alien masquerade. As he stepped through the metal detector, it beeped loudly, and Karna stiffened, bracing for an unseen threat.

"Sir, please step aside," the security guard instructed, eyeing Karna with a professional detachment.

"Is there a problem?" Karna asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, here we go," Chandu muttered under his breath, his hand palming his face.

"Just a routine check, sir. Please hold still," the security guard assured, waving his handheld scanner.

"Relax, bhaiya. He's not challenging you to a duel. It's just the scanner picking up the metal. Not a sword, not a spear—just a zipper," Chandu chuckled, trying to ease Karna's tension.

Once through security, they finally reached the gate. Karna's gaze was drawn to the massive airplane outside the window—a gleaming metal leviathan that seemed both magnificent and unwieldy. He moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he took in the plane's powerful engines and the busy swarm of ground crew attending to it like servants to a monarch. The plane, this "metal bird" as Advika had called it, dwarfed even the grandest chariots of his time. Karna marveled at how such a behemoth could defy gravity and soar into the sky as if by divine sorcery. For him, flight had always been the domain of the gods—Garuda, Hanuman—not mere mortals and their clunky contraptions.