It was 3.30 am. I was all packed up to leave. Normally, I pack extremely light, a regular back-pack which houses my electronics, a pair of clothes, and two books. However, this time I was going away for 2 months, which meant a backpack was not going to do the trick. I had luggage to check-in.
I kept the bags ready by the door, re-checked the house, and waited for the clock to strike 3.45 AM, which was when the cab was supposed to arrive. But it did not. Many phone calls, efforts, panicking thoughts, and desperate prayers later, somehow the cab arrived at 4.15pm, taking away the buffer time allocated for both cab delay and travel time.The first and the smallest hurdle had been taken care of.
I reached the airport on time, thankfully. However, the flight, originally scheduled at 6.20 am was delayed by 2 hours. That meant letting go of my breakfast plans. At 7 am, while still waiting for the delayed flight, I called the restaurant and cancelled my reservation. Now, this would seem insignificant to many, but cancelling reservations or any appointments are tough. The severity is like going back on a promise. And if it involves food, it feels like a double blow to your heart - ask someone who loves food.
It was an hour-long flight. I just had a few hours of work in the city, after which I would take my next flight, scheduled at 6 am the next morning. So, I opted to avail the airport cloakroom services (the 9-hour package by when I would definitely be back) to drop off my bag. I grabbed the tallest cup of coffee to keep off any possible drowsiness (courtesy of not getting a wink of sleep for the last 27 plus hours), took a cab, and off I went to the first meeting of the day.
This is just for context of how the day was supposed to be, but I think this paragraph may be skipped if context is something that can be done away with. It was almost 10 am by the time I got the cab. My first meeting was at 11 am and all the work was supposed to get over by 2 pm. I had a lunch reservation at 2.15 pm at a restaurant just a stone's throw away from the place of work. I had planned to go to a gallery after that, be there for an hour, and then be back at the airport well before 6.30 pm. I would then collect the bag, check some stores at the airport, have a relaxing long dinner at that fun Japanese restaurant at 7.30 pm (the restaurant was just 5 minutes walk from the drop-off/departure points), and then wait in the lounge until my next flight.
As the very first line suggested, nothing went as per the plan. I had to cancel my lunch reservation too. The work extended much beyond the expected hours, but the output was disheartening. It took much more than double the time I had allocated it, but didn't yield even a fraction of the result that was expected. The reserves of sunshine a person can hold runs low sometimes, especially when it is fuelled by lack of sleep, uninspiring work results, and an entire day with just a cup of coffee (for a person who is not used to caffeine).
I reached the airport after 7.30 pm, an hour late than when I was supposed to collect my bag from the cloakroom. I decided to not cancel my dinner reservation; I didn't have an ounce of strength left to do that. The restaurant anyway was just 5 minutes away. I went ahead with dinner, my first meal in 30 hours. However, again against expectations, I couldn't enjoy the dinner whole-heartedly... for worrying thoughts kept looming over me. Please don't misunderstand, the food was absolutely amazing but I was extremely tired... so tired that I feared if I rest in the lounge, I might not wake up to board the flight.
After a quick dinner, I reached the cloakroom, two and a half hours later than I was supposed to collect my luggage. I was ready to pay the fine but arriving after the time slot that I had ticked on that form weighed down on me more, perhaps more than when dark clouds weigh down on an already gloomy sun-less day. After the allotted time slot expires, uncertainty creeps in, like unresolved shadows. The person in-charge might have experienced that uncertainty. And it's definitely not a good feeling. I was ashamed and knew apology is not enough. Nevertheless, apology was a must. Upon reaching the cloakroom, I did exactly that... I apologized, as much as I could.
The person in-charge, let's call him N, smiled throughout and kept saying, "it's okay. I can understand." N was extremely polite and the owner of a pleasant and comforting smile. When I tried to hand over my card to pay the fine, he said, "you must have paid for the service when you dropped off your bag." I said that I had paid, but this is for the fine that I am supposed to pay for the delay. And I apologized again. He replied that he would waive it off. When I insisted, he said, "It's completely okay. It wasn't that long anyway. I understand you might have had a tough day. You don't have to pay anything extra." He smiled, again.
I was extremely grateful. I had nothing with me that I could give as a token of appreciation and gratitude... except for my custom made bookmarks. I opened my luggage for the bookmarks, wrote a gratitude note, and then went back and gave N a set of bookmarks along with the note. I thanked him and he thanked me back. His earlier smile of understanding now reflected a smile of being appreciated, perhaps with a hint of graceful happiness.
Afterwards, I debated whether to go to the lounge or just dwindle around for the entire night. I strolled around for 30 odd minutes which made me realize I couldn't go on like that. I grabbed another tall cup of coffee and checked into the lounge. I requested them to call me up by 3 am, lest I fall asleep. They suggested that I have enough time if I want to take a nap, and I should because I looked exhausted.
Until they told me so, I had not realized that I too might look exhausted. When I think back, the server at the restaurant looked concerned and N's initial reaction when I first apologized too had a hint of concern. I misread/ignored those expressions back then. Did I look that pathetically exhausted for them to get concerned, I wonder. With these and some other unassociated thoughts, I took a rest in the lounge but I couldn't sleep, the caffeine was doing its job, even working overtime.
I checked out of the lounge a little before 3 am, checked in for my flight, which thankfully was on time, and checked the few shops inside the airport that were still open. Even though I had not slept in 48 hours by then (which would later on extend to 60 hours), I still didn't sleep during the flight. I was perhaps physically drained off my strength, but the kindness that I received surely did boost my spirits. N's smile and his kindness did help refill the reserve of my sunshine too. A nice breakfast, sleep, and later some familiar faces helped in further refilling the reserve. Often things that are otherwise considered mundane... are actually magical.
