Wednesday, 25 March 2015


The main differentiator between the mature amongst us and the rest, in my humble opinion, is that the former are well aware that all things must pass. At one stage or another one has to say goodbye to everything in one's life, and usually the bigger and more important the thing one departs from the harder the departure is. Often these departures are sudden and unexpected; in other occasions one only realises a departure took place retrospectively. Eventually, we all have to say goodbye to life itself. It's hard for me to think of a way for that to take place in a pleasant manner.

I thought of the above as I making an airport drop off and saying my goodbyes. By now I have grown to hate to airports: whereas once they use to stand for gateways to the exotic, now they're venues for intrusive security checks, ridiculous questioning and the portals for rotting on crowded and extremely tight and uncomfortable confines for hours if not days.
There is more to it, though. Airports are our training grounds for saying goodbye. Each time I say goodbye to a loved one at the airport I die a little.

No comments: