Sleep on the floor
“3.00 am?? Are you sure??”
“Yes ma’am”
“I need 10 more minutes and i’ll be there!!”
“Its 3.00 am dot ma’am. We’ll have to board the flight"
“Just 5 minutes..please!”
“We are really sorry..”
Racing heart and sweat down around the nape of my neck, I wake up - check the time. Its 4.23 am. Breathe. Easy. We are okay. Its okay. I’m just dreaming.
Calmly, I put my head down on the pillow and trace my hands along the hardboard of the night stand, grab the remote and turn the temperature down lower. This should work. I breathe easier than before, as I drape my favourite brown fleece around me and turn into a ball to hold it closer to my chest. Tight in my palms I can feel the comfort of polyester and the cotton or whatever the hell the fleece is made up of. I slip it enough to cover my face, but to keep my nose out in the 18 degrees. That makes breathing easier and suffocating less likely. I like the chilly nose and the tip of ears frosting while I lull myself back into the dreams.
I stare right ahead infront of me, through the huge glass walls (and the ceilings) - I see the plane ready in its full glory waiting to board its passengers. I look around count the two bags I have. One. Two. Recount them again, just to make sure. One, two. That’s all I need. Two bags and the plane waiting. I’m ready to leave. Its getting colder. Its always bloody cold at the waiting lounges, carpeted in burgundy and gray. I always forget to carry a sweater. So I pull the bag closer. Anything to keep me comfortable. I try to hear the announcement, a call for passengers ready to depart - my hazy thoughts take over. Its here. Right infront of me. I’m taking it this time. How can I miss it. Its here right in front of me. I just have to go. Walk. Run. Crawl. Whatever. Literally 10 steps and we are flying. Two bags and me. That’s all I need.
I toss and turn. The temperature is uncomfortably cold now, I still wake up with sweat covering my neck. Everything feels hazy. I can feel the anger building. How did I wake up? I was ready to go. I shouldn’t be here. I shut my eyes deliberately. Tightly. Eyelids drown into one another. I say a little prayer. It comes effortlessly now. Almost subconsciously. Praying helps me fall asleep faster. Within seconds. It’s a record stuck on repeat, but I love it regardless. I can feel my right foot on my left, swinging lightly to the rhythm of the fan. I keep tapping, I keep praying. Until there’s a sync. My feet and my breathing. Light and cold. The fleece wrapped in my fists, tight. Until everything eases. And i’m asleep again.
Let’s go let’s go!! I’m excited. Only to realise I cannot move. I can see the passengers, the stewards, the crew, the cargo, the plane - everything and everyone take off. And I cannot move. I try. Or I don’t. I don’t remember. You cannot tell much in a dream. But for the umpteenth time, I miss another flight. And I keep missing them. One after another. Sometimes late to arrival, sometimes caught in an accident, sometimes staring while it takes off.
I sigh. I keep seeing planes. I keep seeing them leave. This was the only time I was nearly there. Mostly, i’m late. The exasperation keeps building and I keep trying. I can see it, but I keep missing it. Over and over. I laugh at myself, how fleeting life is and I keep trying to chase the planes. Everytime arriving when it has departed. Almost like Munir says,
موسموں کی سیر میں دل کو لگانا ہو”
کسی کو یاد رکھنا ہو، کسی کو بھول جانا ہو
“ہمیشہ دیر کر دیتا ہوں میں
Listen to:
Sleep on the floor- The Lumineers