Destiny - مقدر

21 - High In The Sky - آسمان میں اعلی

"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself." - George Bernard Shaw

I felt someone jolting my shoulder. First it was lightly, then more of a violent shake. It was Daniyal, of course. I heard his soft voice whispering to me. "Aqsa! Aqsa, wake up."
My eyes opened like two flashlight beams, providing enough light to illuminate whatever was in my narrowed line of view. It's like being shown the woods one tree at a time, but it's better than pitch blackness. One nudge to my ribs makes me jolt awake fully. Daniyal is there, in my small line of view, smiling.

"Aqsa, you were asleep almost the whole time."
"Really?"
He pointed to the notebook in front of me that I remember pulling out before I fell asleep. Written in black, scrawly hand-writing that I should really have been ashamed of, it said MY SPEECH
Was that it? Underneath my hideous looking title, was simply white blankness. Nothing but whiteness. Next to it on a crinkled piece of paper were the points that the girls back home had written. None of which had been transferred to my own page. I'd done nothing but sleep, apparently.

"Well...how long's left?"
"Around seven minutes." He replied, observing the digital clock at the front of the train cabin. "Oh...I'll have to do it during the plane journey then." I folded the paper back up and pushed it into it's old home in my pocket. I closed my almost entirely empty notebook, my pen wedged inside, and shoved it into my bag. Looking out of the window, I saw plenty of unfamiliar sights. This definitely wasn't the part of Kashmir that I knew. That was for certain.

The train was sleek, running over the metal railway so fast that the passing greenery became a hazy blur. Inside we were a curious mixture of cozy and bored, all of us itching for the destination that would come eventually. Until then, people read, slept, played brief games and spoke about everything, and nothing. Most periodically checked texts and smart phones - the addiction of our age, of our society. I'd bought a phone, shortly before the charity opened. I'd since learnt how to use it effectively, and it all made sense. It may be somewhat addictive and unhealthy, but it is also helpful, and incredibly useful. I even got Daniyal to send that photo we'd taken all those years ago on the way to Skardu. It wasn't that we hadn't taken any other photos in the time between, but that photo was special. It symbolised a time that was rough, a love that was being born, relationships that were being made. It was special in a way that no other photo will ever be. All the while the engines purred; the aroma was of new plastics and fabrics.

It was almost midday when the train finally trundled towards the correct depot, engine cooling. Soon enough, the train jolts to a stop. I almost fall into Daniyal's lap, but I am able to regain myself and as soon as I know there won't be anymore rocking and sudden movement, I stand. I lift one bag over my back, and I hold the other in my hand as I wait outside for Daniyal to wheel the suitcase out with him. 

There is a large blue plaque above the airport that reads KUSHOK BAKULA RIMPOCHEE TERMINAL, LEH in thick white lettering. Then, again above it, in Hindi. The airport isn't big, it is actually rather small. But it was the first airport I'd ever seen. Maybe all airports are like that? Inside, the airport was like a sea of faces moving in an unseen current, flowing like water to their destinations like a wide river down the aisles. Small groups would sometimes stop and cause a small bustle of commotion, but the others would flow around the outside and continue on their way all the same.

There were plasma screens of arrival and departure times on the wall of the airport. People were lined up at the check in desk with suitcases and baggage. There was an abstract sculpture of what seemed to be a person, standing tall amongst the crowds. In the background soft classical music played. In the arrivals lounge there was a curious mixture of bored and excited people. Some lounged on the low comfy chairs and others bounced on their toes.