Something about the airport always fascinates me. So many different personalities waiting to be cramped in a few foot squares of an airbus all heading towards dreams, away from dreams. Heavy hearts & sullen thoughts, joyous lives & hopeful souls sharing modified oxygen for a dozen-packed minutes. There is that guy in the Darth Vader t-shirt who likes his pizza cheesy and his memes Star Wars. Who swears on falling for any girl who’d be a Star War couple with him cue Big Bang Theory. Who is intent on making his opinions on the sci-fi plot in social media. There’s the girl with a MANGO satchel and a handy laptop bag all over her phone, scared to waste a second offline. Who’d be complaining to her friends about “these people” who are so hurried to get in line to board the plane. She tweets and stories her life, wishing she lived more off-screen. There’s that ‘almost thirty-feeling twenty’ dude in a polo t-shirt and summer shorts who is so sure his opinions are the best in Quora. And there’s the thirteen something girl fascinated about every experience she comes across – the view from the plane, the passenger in front of her she felt compulsed to question and gathered the courage to ask “Which country are you from?” To which she got the reply, Northeast India, left with a baffled expression wondering how’d that face pop up from her country. And there’s me being all observant and cynical and wordy, making the passengers next to me curious as to whether I am a writer or another heartbroken girl trying to document pieces of her life. A curious middle-aged aunty tries to catch some words off the paper but it doesn’t seem to make sense. An hours curiosity entertains nonetheless. Who is she, who am I?
You have to understand this, I am a little more than human. You see a drug addict, you wish he wasn’t a drug addict. I look at the same person I see his childhood, I imagine his first pill. I wonder what his parents are doing, I wonder what his dreams are, i wonder how he feels about life. If he’s living in fear because everyday could be his last.
You hear a waterfall gushing down the rocks. I hear the water laughing, and it wants me to laugh along. I see the water alive and finding its way through nooks and curves of stones. And when I step in, I feel its hearbeat, its gentle sways let me know the paths its planning to take. It’s the same with mountains, their curves tell me stories. The sky, it likes to show off and glisten a little more when we are looking up, arrange its clouds so we can make patterns and shapes out of our imaginations, giving us sky high ways to kill our time. But it’s the stars, those pretty ones seem to be at full display the longer we admire them. Its like they’re spreading out the horizon and asking fellow stars to shine their best coz these little humans are admiring their sparkling art. I am a little more than human, I hear nature. Because once you listen enough, it speaks to you and there’s no voice more soothing on earth.
You say you’re lonely and listen to songs to pass the time. When I ache of loneliness, every memory and every wish eats my heart alive when I am alone, and burns when I’m among people, its hard to choose which feels better. I can’t listen through one line of a song, because each melody takes me further from sanity. You say it’s a lovely, lonely night. No, lonely could never be lovely.
I am a little more than human. And that is why I need words everyday. To feed my soul with new ones and replenish white pages with thoughts overflowing. It is only when hand paints the hearts woes on paper that this soul can ever be at peace. Without words, I could never be. Because, I am a little more than human.