After disembarking the flight at the International Airport in Thiruvananthapuram, a city
that is known for its ‘undulating terrain of low coastal hills’, I was walking towards the
immigration services as swiftly as I could. I casually noticed a young man walking along
side, keeping up the pace with me. Upon the quick random realization that dawned on me
that he was the window seat occupant in the same row in which I had occupied the aisle
seat. Crossing our gazes unexpectedly, I extended to him a forced smile of courtesy, as a
gesture of civility expected of all us on such awkward occasions. Without any hesitation, he
reciprocated my smile, with the same. Soon, we found ourselves engaging in conversation,
introducing, and learning about the whereabouts of each other. A relational landing space
which neither of us foresaw or anticipated, until that moment!
To my pleasant surprise, I learnt that we both had boarded same flights, starting our
itineraries from the great city of Toronto, a land that celebrates all forms of diversities. At
the departing airport, the Lester B. Pearson International Airport, which was named after
14 th prime minster of Canada, who won the Nobel Peace Prize for organizing the first
peacekeeping force, we sat, in the same lounge, for more than three hours prior to boarding
the fancy ‘Emirates Boing 201’ heading to Dubai. We also spent four and half hours at the
Dubai airport lounge individually, waiting for our connecting flight to
Thiruvananthapuram. We boarded the same Emirates aircraft and travelled all the way
across the Arabian Sea that connects three major peninsulas, the Horn of Africa, the
Arabian and the Indian Peninsulas, for a stretch of five and half breathtaking hours.
Despite sharing the same departing and destination ports for our travels, we hardly ever
noticed each other until on the last lap, just before disappearing to each other’s separate
directions of anonymity. Without any exaggeration, I would make the claim that we spent
more than twenty-four hours altogether, and traveled 8729 miles in close, but unconnected
physical proximity. Sadly, we had no clue about our shared journeys, and throughout we
conducted ourselves as strangers.
All it took us to connect was just an innocuous gentle smile! Ripping of the impatience we
experienced at the baggage carousel, we started to chat a little more about ourselves and to
get to know each other a little deeper.
As the destiny of life has its mischievous trick to play on every person, I was startled to
know that we both happened to have a common ancestral connection with Anjuthengu, a
picturesque seaside village cradled along the shore of the Arabian sea where we both had our births, and spent the entirety of childhood and growing up years. The destination of
this current trip for both of us was to the same village, historically famous for is resistance
to the early commercial settlement of the English East India company in the form of an
armed revolt in 1697 called the ‘Anjuthengu Revolt', where we have our loved ones
residing, currently. Coincidently, this young man's uncle happened to be my classmate at St.
Joseph’s High school, the only high school in our village where we studied from the first
grade to the final year of the high school education.
As interconnected as it seemed, after our visits to our loved ones, we would both be going
to the East end of Toronto, Canada, where we have our current homes, and residential
status as ‘immigrants’ waiting for us!
Walking in tandem amid all these astounding coincidences that gushed into our pleasantly
shocked mental realms of awarenesses, the time came for us to exit from the Airport, and
move towards the respective cabs that were waiting for us.
But before leaving the entrance of the airport I heard me repeating for the one last time,
"What a strange coincidence!"
On a second thought though, I questioned my inner wondering: "What is strange about it?
Is it really a coincidence? As humans, aren't we all connected, or better, interconnected, on
some level, or (for that matter) on multiple levels?"
It is fair enough to say that, to the extent, I shared commonalities with this young man, may
not be the extent I share connections and commonalities with many others on the paths of
the daily routine of my life I meet. Still, I cannot consider others as strangers to me. At the
end, in the careful pealing of the strangeness inherent in others, I will surely fall flat, as I
did on this trip, that there are no strangers, but friends who have not met before.
The miracle of the tiny smile is the golden path to transform the so called, others-who-are-
strangers into friends.
One brief, innocuous but daring tiny smile!
∎
