This is continued from HERE…
Playlist: Have You Seen Her ~ Just A Band
‘Passengers booked to Sydney with EK 356, its now time to board’; a lady’s voice called out in Arabic. I had missed the announcement in the English version, perhaps in wonderland. My imagination was lost, deeply at that of the magnificent, so to speak of the unrivaled hours I had spent with the beautiful, mysterious lady. I had not been to Sydney before. With the imagination of a child and the eagerness of a deer I looked forward; but much more than that, I wondered of the possibilities that I could meet this lady again.
Marsha*, the beautiful Philippine lady from crew welcomed us on board. Like many hostesses, she flashed an attractive smile with each passenger’s turn. She offered me the same; I extended a hello in return. Hello to you too Sir, she reverted. I settled in, Seat 35 D. A sigh of relief followed, I found my head phones, plugged in; ‘Too Big to Fail’, my movie choice as I waited for Passenger number 35E. I hoped for most that they would be interesting folk. The kind that doesn’t snore, exciting enough to chat to; not so much of a chatterbox though. With a minimum eight hour flight you can only wish for so much. Passenger 35 E never showed up. Something must have happened, I thought. Something was supposed to happen, I wondered.
The tidings of being a gentleman; the flight was full of elderly South Asia folk. They all dressed in some sort of identical attire. They carried travel bags, branded in lingo that seemed Indonesian, or Malaysian; one of those. They didn’t speak any English, at least those near me. I watched Marsha from a distance, trying to help them settle before take off. She couldn’t communicate, and the entire crew seemed to lack on anyone conversant with their dialect. They were from pilgrimage in Mecca, I had gathered. Somehow, Marsha came to my seat; she wondered whether I spoke anything similar to what they did. I didn’t, but I knew folks from that side of the world loved Ice Tea. Give them Ice tea, I offered. There you go, she retorted. Thank you, she followed; Just a helping hand or word. I thought to myself. I sank back to my seat; it was time for take off.
Up in the air we were when Marsha took 35 E. A nightmare this is, she said. I smiled back. Work hazards huh? I made conversation. For the most part, I just wanted to sit back, enjoy my movie, sink to wonderland, hope for a short journey, hope to save a damsel in distress; the damsel in distress. Yes that one, a boy can wonder… I know. Still, we spoke, Marsha was pleasant after all. She shared the fun that is being in the air, and the fun that it kills being up there. I listened. Romance she said, it comes for those who want to have fun, it doesn’t for those who want to settle. She missed her fiancé. He wanted her home, to change her career she said. This was interesting. How did you meet? I asked; college, she answered. That’s good, I thought, if they met up there it would have given us men a bad name. I hear we want people to change after we’ve had them. She was kind though, she brought me beers in plenty, and I enjoyed them, until bathroom breaks announced their arrival.
The elderly folk didn’t clear from the bathrooms though; too much ice tea. I kept peeping at the door; dozed of even for a little while; things came to a stretch. It was my turn. I opened the little door halfway to hesitation as someone else opened it from within. I stood with my hand lifting off the knob. There she was! No, not Marsha, The damsel! Jaws dropped; hers… Are you freaking kidding me? I murmured to myself. How possible is this, she followed. You’re going to get out of there or I’ll join you, I’ll burst. She laughed, albeit in embarrassment. Wait there, I mumbled as I rushed for relief. Why does beer make one piss so much anyway? There must be something they can do to fix that ingredient, really; all these years?
She shook her head, for an endless 127 seconds. I counted, in my head. There are things I have come to find possible in a man’s world: Like time can freeze when an absolutely stunning lady is before one’s eyes; like the second hand can be as loud as the city clock’s in ones mind when they stare at beauty, or wonder; like when an opportunity presents itself, one can be absolutely clueless of what to say, or do; like when one is clueless, and lost, all they can do is just smile and gaze in a manner gentlemanly… I can’t believe this. I just can’t. How possible? How are we on the same plane even? She said, severally. I didn’t say anything really; I was blank, with a sheepish smile covering my face.
It was time to know each other. To scale up the vibe as one would say. We were four hours into the journey, four hours from our destination. We spoke; watched same movies, offered commentary, dwelled on interests from our travel. There were moments, of banter; she slept on my arm, I let her sleep on my arm. We stared at each other in silence, yet we communicated. We smiled at each other in acknowledgement. She was the new passenger 35 E. We were both en route to Sydney. We were both en route, to many places. We got to Sydney Airport. Hello was not so affirmative though. We held hands, this time round, but something was not right, on one of her hands…
To be continued…
Till then, Cheers!