Stolen Moments In Time ✔(Airport Diaries #1)

The Stolen Moments in Time

Love is wild: it doesn't work on your will and leisure.

A Coincidental Journey

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven stages.

These lines from William Shakespeare's classic comedy drama As You Like It, makes Arman wonder whether Shakespeare was referring to the airport while penning this first few lines of the famous Seven Ages of Man poem. Certainly, because everything that's been written in the poem, is pretty much taking place right in front of his eyes in this waiting area of the overcrowded international airport.

Men and women, altogether, entering and exiting the airport. Some alone, some with families. The seven ages described in the poem seems to be present here in this crowded gate of the British Airways flight as well: the baby boy in his mother's arms who's continually pulling his mother's hair in a very irritable mood; the crying little boy, who's asking his mother for an expensive toy gun on the display of a sophisticated store; a teenaged boy who's sneakily stealing glances at a girl in beige overcoat sitting some seats away from him; a man seeming in his early forties, resembling the justice in the poem with a round belly and imparting his incomparable knowledge-collected over the preceding years-to his fellow passengers; the pantaloon isn't missing here either-blabbering since minutes in his loud voice-certainly annoying/amusing the people who have occupied the chairs beside him; and lastly the second childishness and mere oblivion sits opposite to Arman, accompanied by his nurse who's supposed to take care of his incapabilities.

His observant eyes turns out to be successful in drawing out similarities between the description of the seven ages and the real life delineated representation of it. Yet, he has missed out on one stage: the soldier, purposely.

Perhaps, because it's he, himself, who's life is representing the fourth stage of the poem. The soldier: he's a Flying Officer, commissioned in the flying branch of the Indian Air Force almost 7 months back as a fighter pilot. But he contradicts the qualities the soldier is depicted to posses, in his own way. Neither he's easily aroused and hot headed, nor does he want to create a reputation with foolish acts; the portrayal of a soldier in the poem is grotesque. Or maybe, he hasn't tried to understand this stage well.

"Excuse me, is that rucksack yours?"

A soft feminine voice abruptly ends his musing, bringing him back from his world of thoughts.
His gaze moves from the floor to the direction from where he heard the voice, only to find a girl, dressed in a short black trench coat and blue denim jeans clubbed with brown boots. For a moment, he seems mesmerised; the girl's doe like eyes enchants him, though her long brownish black tresses seem to just attract him more.

"Excuse me, Sir, I'm talking to you?" the girl speaks again, this time slightly irritable.

"Huh? Y-Yeah," he answers, coming out of the spellbinding trance he was in few seconds before. "It's mine."

"Oh," says the girl, in her initial soft tone, "can you please pick it from the chair, I want to sit there. There's no other empty chair, so can you please ...?" She indicates towards the rucksack, that currently lies on the chair next to Arman.

"Yes, sure," he replies, promptly picking his camouflage patterned rucksack from the chair. He keeps it near his feet.

"Thank you," the girl replies, settling beside him on the now empty chair.

From the corner of his eyes, Arman tries to steal a glance at his fellow traveller. With a book in her hand and Starbucks coffee cup in another, she seems to be one of the passengers who's flight has been delayed because of the heavy downpour, that hasn't come to halt in last three hours. It's an easy guess, since almost every passenger in this waiting area of British Airways are eagerly anticipating the announcement for their much delayed flight.