egress
September 1, 2005i lean back against my seat, and look out the window.
My airbus 330 is seemingly empty. the crew begin to go through the instructions i’ve seen since i was 3 months old. unwilling attention will have to be paid.
The plane seems to take off slowly, though the screen in front of me tells a very different story. the roads of london fade away to be replaced by ribbons of yellow light. at 2000 feet one can see the cars below zoom along the motorway and the hazy street lights casting a glow on the road; making it seem hallowed.
at 4500 feet, the plane banks to leave the country, and for mere moments we are tipped to tilt. the roads are now a continuous stretch of orange. cars are specks of black and the city extends away into the distance - a mesh of orange. houses and buildings are literally lighted dolls’ houses. even at this height, the sheer size of london hits you. as altitude is gained, the dots below seem to move almost too fast; it seems physically impossible.
at 6000 feet, the UK is a mesh of sparkly light, and one realises the insignificance of one of the largest cities in the world; in contrast to the wonder of moments earlier. the plane keeps rising, and clouds begin to obscure the world. a flash of clear sky and the world below can be seen as a litter of orange specks with roads, houses, districts all interweaving into one.
We are nearing the ends of UK territory now and a stark picture of the “tiny” island which was bewildering a year ago is left in my mind. it is now an orange network and not much else. connecting highways are ribbons, and towns, splodges.
It seems one needs only perspective to realise where we really stand. The plane begins its journey outward over the north sea; and over brussels.
A blast of hot air hits me as i alight from the plane at abu dhabi. i feel good, not “burning up” as one of my friends put it. having been in the emirates for the first eleven years of my life, the desert and the hot sun seem to be welcoming me back. i stare out past the fence and at the sand dunes in the distance. this place feels familiar.. a “good” familiar. i think a trip to these deserts will need to be made eventually. someday.
the barest of vegetation ekes out an existence. survivors. i get into the bus.
Inside the airport, the familiar duty free shops and general chaos exists. the terminal seems small, a two-tiered hall in the shape of a dome. i wander, prices in airports don’t vary too much. my plane leaves in three hours. i settle with ‘digital fortress’, a jam tart, and a glass of juice.
We’ve stopped at muscat. the stopover seems interminable. probably coz the book is over. and was pointless. a lot of tension over nothing ? good plotting, keeps you gripped. and that’s it. i expect more from dan brown probably.
the desert seems different here somehow.. i drift off.
Even as i open my eyes to hear the patter of rain, i know we are over mumbai. the window is inconveniently placed; but i strain to look out and catch the first glimpses of the place i call home.
shanties, buildings, roads… the chaos of mumbai flashes below; as the plane is swung over the city to enter the final approach. i cannot describe it all, we seem to be heading downwards too fast. relativity at work ?
the plane lands. i am home.
