Airports

Airports are some of my favourite places to hang out at.

In Dublin, I used to take one-hour bus rides from my flat to the Dublin Airport on my off days - just so that I could chill, enjoy a book and have coffee while I watched travellers whizz by. Rain or shine, summer or winter - my trips to the airport were the most therapeutic experiences. At least to me.

Don't get me wrong though. I wasn't so eccentric or sad that I only hung out at airports. I frequented parks, the harbour, malls, homes of friends and etcetera too. I fed ducks, went for long walks, watched movies and did sleepovers at my friend's. But airports will always have a special place in my heart. They bring out the poetic and prayerful sides of me because much of my time is spent waiting, watching people... and wondering what it means to truly live, leave behind the past and move on to a Christ-centred destiny. I smile at people and sometimes pray for them in my heart. I laugh and cry with people - unknown to them of course. I envy ladies with expensive perfume, bags, dresses and shoes. I glimpse happiness, anticipation, frustration, exhaustion, grief and boredom in faces - and I am consoled to come to terms with the amalgam of emotions that I daily face. It is only human. Airports are very human in that sense.

They are especially awesome when I am a traveller myself. Worlds of utter fascination.

Currently, I am at Terminal 3 of the Changi International Airport (Singapore) - waiting for my flight to Narita (Japan) in the morning.