What is it about airports?

See you left again. I couldn't stop you. I mean I want to but no. No no no. You have college. You have a life. You've a future to maintain even if it means that I'm not there with you all the time in the present. Is it just me who's being sentimental or is it something about airports? Waiting and waiting. People come. People go. People leave. People smile. Cry. Laugh. What is it about airports? Why are airports so underrated when it comes to writing and weaving words that create magic?

What is it about airports? You sit down and wait. And wait and wait. To see a pristine white cab with the ugliest shade of yellow used as it's number plate with numbers written in the darkest black. What is it about airports? The taxies cone one after another. Some are just fancy cars. I see Mercedes, BMW, Honda. But no right now I couldn't care less about the brand. Where are you? Time's ticking away. You'll have to leave soon. You'll have to, like millions of passenger go through the door, through the security, through checks and scans while your luggage gets stamped as if it has an identity of its own too. Where are you? Time is like sand and it's slipping away. Come soon. Meet me. See I'm waiting for you. Like I always do. A little impatient because time and distance are two mean bitches.

What is it about airports? I carry work so that I can look busy to the onlookers. So that no one questions why I'm still sitting. Still waiting. Every cab that comes and stops raises my hope and then crush it to bits. What is it about airports? How is it so crowded yet I can spot you? I can feel you.  And then I see your cab. You're smiling because you know someone is waiting for you. Only for you. 

You see me and wave. Once more my heart skips a beat. What is it about airports? You jump out of the car even before it stops. Careful I say. You hug me. The best hug. Of course, your companion is irritated. But that hug. That one hug that melts you. That one hug that sets everything right. Coming from just the right person. You. 

What is it about airports? I see you smiling freely. Do you not see the pain in my eyes? Or you do and decide to ignore it because you're going through the same thing. How can you not? Two thousand kilometres is not a joke. I wish it was so that I could laugh but no it's not. You hug me again. Time freezes. When the hug is over reality hits. Fifteen minutes more. What? No. Something is wrong. Last I checked you were just getting down from your cab. No. You can't leave so early. No. 

What is it about airports? Five minutes to go. Will you miss me you ask? I say are you stupid? Why should I? I know very well. Can't you see? Can't you read me? Two minutes to go. I know how to freeze time so I wrap my arms around you. Smelling you your impressions your imperfections your perfections. Taking in your smell because I am not getting that for a long time now. Is there a way to bottle this up and use it as my special perfume? Is there a way to get a duplicate of you so that I can keep it with me in my room? 

What is it about airports? It's time for you to leave. I let go reluctantly. You ask will you wait for me? I say waiting is all that I've been doing. You look in my eyes. No words are exchanged. Eyes talk. That's what you like. That's what I like. They speak a language which is beyond normal human comprehension. I want to cry. You want to cry. But neither do. You smile. I smile. What is it about airports? 

What is it about airports? Suddenly I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay. I know you won't. But please. I run away. I run towards the exit so that I don't see you going. But I make a mistake. I turn around. And see you. You're looking at me running. Your eyes lost their voice. I can't take it anymore. Either you come back or let me go. Don't let your eyes stop me. Or actually, do. Stop me. Please stay. I'm being selfish but don't go. But do you stay? No. Your boarding has begun. Your flight takes off. You leave once again. Come back soon. What is it about airports?