**Something i had written so long ago. It is purely fiction. I miss writing fiction!
I was still strapped in my seat as the huge aircraft penetrated the dense cloud on approach to Kuala Lumpur airport. From the window seat, I could see September rain drenching the Earth, feeding the greens and cattle and once the plane touched down and settled on one of those vacant terminals, I froze in my seat—stationary and numb like a rag doll. “To all Malaysians, welcome home,” the pilot had half-heartedly and listlessly said and like a knee-jerk reaction, tears began to well up in my eyes beyond my control, further, driven across my cheeks like those droplets of rain that were racing across the window. The greeting never fails to send a shudder through me but this time, it got me.
I leaned forward, resting my face in my hands and casting about some happy moments that could possibly lure those tears away but it was too late. The kind old woman next to me noticed my patent anguish and asked if I was okay.
“Oh yes. Just feeling dizzy. Thanks.”
She smiled, gave me a pat on my shoulder and said, “That shall pass, my dear”. Surely, if I had told her the truth, she would have regretted the question. If I had told her that the air I breathe reminded me of complete despair and if I had told her, the ground I was about to step on was haunted with the ghost I once loved, wouldn’t it be a lot for her to wrap her head around to? She was after all only a stranger and she probably had thought that it was the right thing to do. Of course, it wasn’t her intention to be niggardly. But I think, people shouldn’t ask things they do not want to know, like asking people how they are and surreptitiously wishing that they have no bad stories to offer. People began unfastening their seat belts the second the airplane went to a complete halt, afterward unloading their small baggage from the overheard compartment and alighting the airplane. I was the last one to leave. My gestures went on with complete familiarity—wheeling my luggage from the aircraft, through the immigration, getting my oversized luggage from the assigned carousel and arriving at the arrival hall. But this time, he wasn’t there.
Before I arrived at the main entrance, I wheeled my luggage across the departure area and the very scene I had gone through half a decade ago flashed before me. I was about to depart, to further my studies in Australia and he was holding my hands, slightly teary-eyed and said, “I will wait for you, that I promise.” He almost choked on his words but it came out beautifully and I was assertive. What other choice did I have but to believe? To hold on to something that was so easily damaged and yet, so comforting and beckoning? To believe that the possibility could outrun the impossibility? To believe that unlike others, I wouldn’t suffer for my leap of faith? It was all too believable until it isn’t anymore.
“I am sorry my dear, I think, our moment has passed.”
He had solemnly said before ending the phone call; that was the end of us, the end of five years relationship, the end of everything that once mattered.
And so I found myself standing in the midst of the arrival hall in solitude until a stranger roared at me from behind, “Move along, will you?!”