There’s something mystical about aeroplanes, watching one take off, hover above you and fly away until it becomes a tiny speck in the sky and disappears.
And just in case you were wondering, no, I have not outsourced this blogpost to a 15-year old.
There is something about aeroplanes that I can never get over. Growing up, there were those odd occasions where, as a family, we’d take a flight (rather than a train) and I’d be thrilled at the thought of being up in the skies. It didn’t end there. A couple of hours staring at different types of people at airports – suit-n-boot gentlemen and the occasional business-woman (I speak of 20 years back in India), mommies managing cranky babies and families going for their summer vacation and ofcourse airhostesses getting ready for their next flight – it was quite a treat to watch people from different cultures and types come together at one place!
Once aboard, the window seat was the most sought after. And here comes the embarassing bit. The window seat is STILL the most sought after. There was a time, not very long ago, when I pleaded with a single man who was happily perched in his window seat to take my aisle seat. This was not even my first or second flight. He looked shocked but gave in, bless his soul.
And on one such flight where the hard-fibred glass pane was resisting my forehead, and we were flying over the city of Sharjah, I got this beautiful but iPhone-grainy picture.
These days, I stay in a quiet community about 10 minutes away from the airport and the only sound is that of the aeroplane above, every 4 minutes and 20 seconds. Ofcourse, I timed that 😉