The Man at the Airport. A story. A bustling airport, it is night time and the world is busy going places. I stand by the railing, having come to see off a friend. I love to travel and airports fascinate me with their energy, technology and all kinds of passengers. Passengers with luggage that kind of, for me defines their life in a nutshell. New fancy suitcases, battered ones, covered ones, taped ones and heavily locked ones, all an extension of the personalities of the owners. I like to think so! Well, as I stood staring at everyone, wishing I was the one flying off to some exotic destination, I see a tall middle aged man, hatted, wearing a black coat and sturdy shoes. A small suitcase he carries by his side, ancient and well travelled with many stories locked away in its recesses. I am struck by the way he carries himself, elegant yet not too over bearing, a traveller of yore. I cannot tear away my gaze away from his face, angular, bronzed and almost statuesque. And here I am thinking this is a story walking right up to the gates! A time traveller, floating out of a portal of time, bringing along with him the magic of the ages! As I see him amble down, cool and unconcerned, I cannot help wonder where he is from, what his life is like for a certain mystique surrounds this man. A mystique of adventure, movie like sequences, the great continent of Africa springs to my mind, his striking features an ode to the cradle of mankind. Much like Indiana Jones of the movies! He stands out in the crowd of jeans wearing, sport shoes donning look-alikes with bored expressions on their faces. I then, start to mull on the real spirit of travel, to be awed by different cultures, people. This man for me epitomises the allure and ruggedness of travel being so calm and dignified in the midst of it all. Letting the world know that grace, adventure can define you in different ways. I watch him disappear into the crowd, charmed by an elegance lost in a world too busy to find themselves.
