The long flight

She looked flustered, quite uneasy as she sat on the window seat of the homebound Ryanair service. Her mind it seemed was flying faster than the aircraft. Everything irritated her, the Spanish accented excited announcements selling the latest perfumes on duty free, in flight only, slashed prices, the couple in front babbling away, reminiscing of their holiday, even the slight turbulence as the machine waded through air pockets. Her right thumb continuously pulled down on the WhatsApp chat, hoping for it to pull in the latest message. Her eyes seemingly were looking at the screen but her vision was elsewhere, deep inside her imagination, going back to the conversation with her partner that bothered her tumultuously. The lack of signal and the internet was gnawing away at her slowly and painfully, she wanted to find out what her partner's response to the last message she sent was. She knew he would respond, she just did; but in reality, she could only hope. She had spent a great deal of time writing up that message, editing it a number of times, fumbling for the right words, contemplating on if she was really putting into words her true feelings, correcting the tone, reading and re-reading it again and again down in the airport terminal earlier. She was so engrossed in that one message, sitting on a metallic, characteristically uncomfortable airport chair near the boarding gate that she had even missed the rather acclaimed duty free at the small airport.

And now up in the air - after having sent the message just before take off, paying no heed to the 'please switch your devices to flight mode' announcements - she found it really hard to wait. She so wanted to not be on this flight, all she wanted was the internet, connectivity. It was a long flight, by short haul standards - 3 hours and 15 minutes. Her thumb pulled down again on the chat, but the double tick remained gray. Her thoughts manifested scenarios of how he would respond, what would he say, and what will follow, how will she respond, will things be the same between them, or was it over, done? Even a minute up in the air seemed like an eternity. For her, time almost stood inside the cabin. The helplessness of the situation, with no option but to wait, as the seconds ticked by like hours, her mind conjured up all possibilities of how it will play out, from the good, the bad, the ugly to the extremely nonsensical. Her hands quivered a little, and felt slighly sweaty against the magenta cover of her latest IPhone that he had bought for her on her birthday a few months ago, as her mind continually dawdled on about the possibilities of the future. There was absolutely no respite from the delusions of the mind and so she tried to distract herself. There were no games on her phone she noted annoyingly, as she made a mental note to download a few the second this God foresaken metallic flying cage landed. She tried looking around the cabin, at the people. She generally enjoyed watching people, trying to guess where they came from and what they did looking at their faces, clothes and through their demeanor and mannerisms. But today, it wasn't to be. Her vision was hazy with a veil of annoyance and deep unrest.

She almost felt like shouting at the helplessness, it was too much for her to handle. And the announcement, again in that excited loud tone, about a lottery scratch card game in the background. She couldn't take it anymore. She only wanted to know what he thought, and if things were okay. This was getting too hard. And there were 90 minutes still to go. The randomly seated people next to her, a big man who barely fit in his seat slept peacefully, his head hanging at an uncomfortable looking angle, and a petite french looking girl, wearing an over sized fashionable hoodie listening away to music through her noise cancelling headphones, both projected a strong contrast of calm against her mental agony. The fact that the big man's hand slightly came onto her seat over the armrest added to her already elevated exasperation. She was going home after months, to her family, who were waiting anticipatedly to meet their daughter; she'd been looking forward to this too, and she really missed her dog at home. But now, her mind sat fixated on the message and the follow-up, the destination did not matter. And as this drama continued in her head, she opened the window blind - that she had closed rather animatedly in anger to block any stimuli that distracted her from her misery earlier as soon as the plane took off - and saw the sun setting, behind a fluffy, white carpet of clouds. And as she saw this, she found herself in a vacuum away from all the commotion inside; a calmness engulfed her, in this space where there was only her, the sun, the clouds and infinite sky, and nobody else; this was a parallel universe which existed separate to the ongoings of the flight inside. There was an eerie and yet inviting stillness here in this emptiness. Her eyes and her mind played with the colors and hues of dusk, appreciating the majestic beauty that was there in front of her and others to see, for those willing to see it. Here in this nothingness, in this vacuum of calm, this void, her mind saw the vastness of life, of things, and in them she saw reason and sense. Of how her trouble that she'd been worrying about was so inconsequential in the greater scheme of things, she found perspective in the calmness of just being, like the clouds, the sun and the sky, that went about their life with a wonderful simplicity, and in that simplicity shone an incredible elegance that she now saw. Her hands felt more stable and calm, flat against the plastic body of the aircraft, as her face plopped awkwardly, tightly against the wonderfully cool double glazed window, her eyes fixated outside, oblivious of the second beverage service now passing her row.

For anyone inside the cabin looking at her intently, per chance, would have noticed a deep serenity on her partially visible face, but it's unlikely since people seldom focus on the mundanely calm; more would have noticed her when she was irritable - more entertainment. The minutes passed by at the same rate, as they do (slow and fast are all but perceptions of the mind) but that no longer mattered, she didn't want to be anywhere, she was happy in her vacuum, just appreciating life and just the beauty of the clouds that shone now in the dark sky, while the sun had made a silent exit from the setting which was only privy to her, perhaps, in the whole flight. The phone that she was tinkering away with, now sat snuggly, probably happy with the lack of attention and constant tinkering, in the side pocket of her body hugging Levi's. She continued gazing outside, with almost a childlike admiration, as if she'd flown for the very first time, her mind had found reason which gave way to calm. She came back in to the cabin again, after seemingly an eternity, as the stewardess' prepared the cabin for landing. She now actually saw people, their eyes, their weariness and their excitement. She could now appreciate the happiness in the words of the couple thinking about their holiday. The world seemed a better place. She looked forward to meeting the parents and kissing the dog. She also felt a deep longing, not in agony, but of fondness for her partner, she closed her eyes and could see his handsome face. She knew everything would be alright, all it demanded was intention and patience. The aircraft landed rather unceremoniously, on time and as it taxied, people took out their phones to reconnect with their wider and for some virtual world, some calmly, others with an addicted dogged anticipation. She just sat, with a content smile, her phone still in her pocket. She knew there was no hurry, no panic, she will look at the message in her own time, once she was safely home. And as she finally deboarded the aircraft, behind the well slept big gentleman, in her unseen notifications on her phone, now in her little black leather handbag, was a simple message from about 3 hours ago - 'I'm sorry and I love you.'