Give me a place

I’ve flown over 10K kilometers over last few days, I’ve been in more than a couple of countries and a few capitals and cities glittering with blinding lights, I’ve been in the black-forest and on the crowded over packed buses. I’ve ridden my bicycle and have been also received in a C-class cars at the airports…I’ve met some interesting people but have bid farewell to many more who’ve been closest and dearest to my heart…and come to think of it – amongst this turbulence, airports now have become places where I can think, I can write and I can feel without relating them with people and bittersweet memories.

Once, you check-in, you see your baggage go rolling down those conveyer belts and what can’t go on conveyer belt you leave it outside the door, just like you’ve tried doing time and time over again.

Standing outside the gate, blowing the last cloud of smoke in the air…you can’t help but think of last time when someone escorted you to the airport or of the person who was on the other side to receive you.

Each place is tagged with people you’ve been there with, it is sprinkled with a smell, a picture, a memory, it is laced in your doubt and it is always something you are thinking about…

But these waiting lobbies have become mine now, just mine… I am safe here, I’m alone here. I’ve my space here, I’m always in my elements here. With or without over-packed baggage I’m always comfortable here. However, I can only keep him in exile until I’m supposed to board my flight, then I’ve to leave this place, I’ve to let him free.

Greedily, I rush to some more places and I beg for some more places. When the dust settles, I just want a place, a place where I would find myself, without turbulent memories and stirred up existence. Where, I would feel at home but be free from any remembrance of anything.

I want a place like this waiting hall but minus waiting, minus my baggage, minus closed doors and minus pseudo loneliness.

I just want one sweet little place of my own…

Neo