Subtracting ultraloud plane whirrs and flight delays, I love airports. I like the state of being steps away from rush hour; enough to make time flutter nicely for me to look at people.
When I am not in a rush I like to look at people and guess what their stories are- where they will be heading.. and why. Are they to embrace the faces they have not seen for a while- are some coming home to mourn for a recent loss? Did they come here for escapism; or was it some sort of urgency- are they needed somewhere by somebody; or are they the ones needing?
On board and upon landing and moments before takeoff it is normal for me to envision myself not completing the journey (I pray to God for smooth ones always in sya Allah)- how my presence would be missed (if so, saying the worst takes place, God forbid)- and who would be the hearts praying for my safety et cetera; apart from the gift of having the thought that you can wish for all of the good things in the world at that particular time- peacefulness and Hereafter joy and all- as if the prayers be your last.
I thank God for giving me the oppotunity to learn- and so I have heard, if you let them be- all the things you witness, are really your teachers.