The Unspoken Conversation

The lights dimmed. Everybody was at their seat with their phones in hand. Some texting, some on calls, while the rest were busy clicking selfies with their camera’s blinding flash. Usually, I prefer the aisle seat. You could say there’s a weird sense of freedom associated with it, even though we’re all stuck in the same aluminum vessel for the next few hours. Today I am stuck by the window, trapped between strangers and a view I have long grown tired of. Flying regularly does that to people, I guess. The plane, guided by the runway lights, begins taxing, preparing for takeoff. The air hostess makes her way down the aisle, instructing everyone to switch off their phones or keep them on airplane mode. Once she leaves, I call my mom. “Yeah, I am at my seat. No, don’t worry. I’ll take a cab home from the airport.” Mom’s been sick for some time. Had I been a better child, I probably would’ve flown out much earlier.

Noticing the air hostess make her way back, I turn on airplane mode and keep the phone aside. The plane speeds up before soaring toward the stratosphere. The city lights under the night sky grow smaller and smaller. Looking at the view, I realize the true reason behind my reluctance towards the window seat. The humbling feeling of seeing our world disappear under the clouds was never one I was too fond of. The physical detachment somehow induces a mental detachment as well. Detachment from the people I know, the life I live, the things I feel, and even the person I am. I don’t think I have ever told a fellow passenger my real name while flying. In all the flights I have taken during my lifetime, the further they fly away from land, the further I run away from myself. 

“Sir? Sir? Excuse me, Sir? SIR? Would you like something to eat?” Shaken, I reply, “NO!” I had fallen asleep. The other passengers around me had already started digging into their room-temperature meals. I felt alone. Not lonely. Just alone. When I was younger, traveling alone used to seem quite liberating. Nowadays, it doesn’t feel like much. As a matter of fact, nothing does. I catch my reflection on the tv screen in front of me. I look old. Older than I should. I need to start looking after myself. Turning my gaze out the window, I see parts of the right wing. As a child, I wondered how incredible it would be to stand on the wing and fly through the clouds. Reminiscing my puerile thoughts, I smirk at my reflection. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” asked the lady next to me. I must be quite absorbed in my thoughts because I never realized until now how beautiful the lady beside me looks. “No, not really.” She frowns at me and asks, “Are you sure? It’s a long flight.” Her concern is heartwarming. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you.” I smile at her and start to look away. “So, are you going back home?” she asks. I am unsure why this woman is trying to converse with me. However, she seems nice. “Yeah.” Her face was screaming at me to continue the conversation. Begrudgingly, I oblige. “What about you?” “I actually just left my old home forever.” “Oh, you’re moving?” I asked. “In a way, I guess.” 

From the corner of my eye, I catch an air hostess walking toward our row. Seems like an excellent way to end the conversation. “Excuse me. EXCUSE ME! Can I have some water?” Within a few seconds, the hostess brings me a cup. I grab the cup and immediately sip away, hoping the conversation doesn’t restart. Under my cup, I see a hand held out in my direction. “My name’s Padma. What’s your name?” It’s her. “This is gonna be a long flight,” I think. I never tell fellow passengers my real name while flying. After a brief moment, as I shake her hand, I decide to use my brother’s name. “Anand. My name’s Anand.” “Took you a while to remember your own name, huh?” I must’ve had a sheepish expression, for she began giggling before telling me it was okay if I didn’t want her to know my name. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I just smiled. 

“How long has it been since you were last home?” “A few years.” “A few years?” I thought to myself. “Has it really been that long?”

“Your mom must be so happy you’re finally returning. Sorry, I overheard you speaking to her before takeoff.” Nosy. “Yeah, she’s the reason I’m returning. She hasn’t been too well off late.” “Why did I just reveal something so close to myself to a stranger? She doesn’t need to know!”

“Oh, I am sorry. I lost my parents a few years ago. That’s actually why I am leaving home. Everything there reminds me of them and the now lost moments.” Finally, I get why she’s talking to me. She’s trying to distract herself. “Moving to a new city… Do you know anybody there?” 

“No, but I am looking forward to making new friends.” 

“I hope you at least have a place to live.”

“Hahaha, don’t worry, I’ll manage. Before I settle in, I want to spend some time exploring the place.”

For the first time during our conversation, I want it to go on. I left home many years ago. Yet, I still remember every nook and corner of the city. So, knowing somebody will experience all of it for the first time interested me. 

The lucky man on the aisle seat gets up to use the lavatory. Irrespective of the fact that the hostesses are still serving food, the man perseveres. Must be an urgent call from nature. My eyes fall back on the lady next to me. She looks a bit older. Older than she did since we began talking. Not by a lot, but definitely older. I need to get my eyes checked. At that moment, I realize that she isn’t eating anything either. 

“What about you? Aren’t you hungry?” I asked. A bright smile spreads across her face, cheek to cheek. “I fast on Tuesdays.” Funny. That’s actually why I wasn’t eating either. “Really? My mom and I fast on Tuesdays as well.” “I’m really spilling the beans here, aren’t I?” Interrogating me, she asks, “You listen to everything she tells you to do?” Letting out a sigh, I respond, “Wish I did. Used to before. Nowadays, we have our differences.” 

“Does it make you sad? The differences? Does it affect your relationship?” My eyes must’ve said a lot more than my mouth did because she immediately began apologizing for asking something so personal. Honestly, I didn’t mind, which is weird. “I’m not sure about sadness, but I miss the bond we shared when I was younger. You could say I was somewhat of a mama’s boy back then.”

My head bows down to avoid making eye contact. However, her responding with “Aww” puts me at ease. I look up again and turn towards her. My glasses need to be changed. She looks even older now. Confused. That’s all I feel looking at her. “Is she literally aging while we’re talking?”

“You know, it’s never too late to fix your relationship with her. I lost my parents while never getting the chance to fix our relationship, but your mom’s still there for you. Don’t miss the opportunity while you still have it.”

Her words penetrated me like a bullet. Even though I hate to admit it, the truth is my mother’s health of late worries me. I had been pushing off travel plans hoping that she would get better. She hasn’t. Seeing her sick isn’t a sight I want to be on the receiving end of. All my life, she has always battled through the toughest of situations and overcome them in her own way. However, witnessing her possibly lose her first battle isn’t something I am ready for. On top of that, we aren’t as close as we were at one point. There’s so much I want to tell her sometimes, but an invisible barrier stops me from expressing my feelings. 

“You’re right,” I reply. Turning my head, I catch a glimpse of the night sky before turning back towards the lady. My head starts to hurt. Older. She keeps looking older. A slight chill runs down my spine, but I choose to ignore it. “Ignore it,” I tell myself. 

“What do you do?” “Until a few months ago, I was practicing law. Currently, I am taking a break.” “Maa always wanted to be a lawyer. Hilarious. I’ll definitely have to tell her about this lady once I get home.”

“Oh, how nice! How’s your break been so far” “Frankly, it’s been quite fulfilling. I have found faith again.” 

“What do you mean?”

“When my parents passed away, I lost faith in many things. Life, religion, God… everything. The past few months, I have regained my faith.”

I wanted to ask her age, but the past hour has been utterly confusing when it comes to that. Don’t think I can bring myself to ask her. 

“Over these few months, I realized that faith exists to give us strength, and the trust we have towards it is what aids us in overcoming our toughest moments. It’s normal to lose faith sometimes, but if we allow our belief system to break, it causes our life to fall apart as we know it. Whatever has to happen will happen. Faith makes it easier when time isn’t in our favor.” 

My ears raise up on hearing the lady speak. Maa always said the same thing. In fact, the most significant cause for our differences is my lack of faith in recent years. As a young boy, I would listen to Maa tell me stories of how faith was always a source of strength, not weakness. I would listen to her as her words filled me with a sense of belief that I fail to tap into these days. Maybe my strength in my boyhood days didn’t come from faith. Perhaps it was her always being there by my side. And now, when the possibility of her not being in my corner anymore draws closer and closer, my faith is naturally fading away. 

Deep in thought, the lady broke my chain, saying, “Okay, let’s change the topic. You’re getting in a mood.” I smile at her and nod my head in agreement. 

“You listen to music?” 

“Who doesn’t?” I reply. 

“Right. What do you listen to?”

“Uhh, I listen to The Weeknd a lot. Also, a lot of R&B.”

“Oh, you’re one of those! Ugh.”

Her judgmental eyes made me quite uncomfortable. 

“Why, what do you listen to?”

“Me? Oh, you’ll probably judge me. I listen to old Hindi songs. Mohd. Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosle, Manna Dey, the list goes on…”

Her candidness struck a chord with me. “Okay, maybe she is old.” Funnily enough, I listen to the old classics as well. Maybe even more than I listen to The Weeknd, but I have always been too shy to admit it. There have been times when I have felt like I was born in the wrong era. Maa and I used to listen to the old classics together at night. After dinner, the lights would be off, and she would take out her old CD player. One after another, we would listen to her collection filled with gems till we fell asleep.

“Where will you be staying?” I ask again. 

“Why? Will you drop me?”

“Uhhh, sure.”

Giggling, the lady replies, “Relax! I won’t burden you with my bullshit any more than the duration of the flight.”

“No. No. Please. You’ve misunderstood me. It would be my pleasure to drop you. Honestly, this has been the most pleasant conversation I have had in a long time.”

“You’re too kind, but maybe you should have another pleasant conversation with your mom. Who knows? It could bring the two of you closer.” Usually, such a suggestion from a stranger, albeit positive, would tick me off to the point that I stop speaking to them altogether. Somehow her words felt like great advice. “Who is she?” I wondered.

“Maybe, it will,” I replied. 

“What would you tell her?”

I had to take a moment. My head turned towards the tv screen, where I caught another glimpse of myself. Would you believe it? I look better. Younger, even. The lack of food in my system must be too much for my body to take today. My eyes and head don’t know what they’re doing. 

“The first thing I want her to know is how much I love her. As a kid, I never really said it to her much, but I knew that hugging her occasionally and fighting for her with other people would send the message. It’s been so long since we’ve hugged. When she’s in pain - physical or emotional, I have a hard time taking it in. She’s always had the cure for my ailments when I was growing up. Somehow, I feel I can never do it for her. The older I got, the more my opinions on everything began to change, as happens with young adults who start reading more and more about the world. Consequently, my faith started dwindling with it as well. I guess that took a toll on her. I wish I could tell her that my love for her never lessened. She is and always will be my mother; I am and will always be her son. Recently, we’ve had so many arguments that it’s hard to reconcile at times. Even when I’ve wanted to go down to just give her a tight hug, there’s this string pulling me back. Sometimes, I regret not listening to myself and just going through with it.”

Deep in my throat, I could feel my voice cracking slightly. “Get a hold of yourself,” I tell myself. If I continue any further, I won’t be able to hold back the tears. 

I turn my gaze at the lady. She’s rubbing her eyes and trying to face away from me slightly. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“No, no. You don’t need to apologize. Your words… you should definitely tell your mom how you feel. She probably needs it more than you know.” 

I could hear it in her voice that she was crying. I wanted to hold her hand but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. 

“You’ll have to excuse me,” she says, facing away and covering her eyes with her palms. She gets up and squeezes her way to the aisle before heading towards the lavatory. I look out the window again. “Padma,” I think to myself. The conversation with the lady was probably the most I’ve ever spoken to a stranger on a flight. She didn’t even feel like a stranger after a point. She got so much out of me that I regret not telling her my real name. I have never been this interested to know another person. Talking to her almost had the same effect on me as talking to Maa. However, something is unsettling. She seems to be aging as we are speaking. "Is it just my eyes fooling me, or is something going on?" She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than me when we began speaking to each other, but by the end of it, I swear I noticed wrinkles. Maybe it’s just a lack of moisture in the flight. She must have dry skin or something. Surely. That must be it. 

“VIJAY!” 

My entire body trembled at the sound of my own name echoing. I look up, and the lady with tears in her eyes is now standing in front of the exit door. She’s considerably older. My hands and legs fidget in fear. Looking around, my heart drops. There’s nobody else on the plane anymore. What is going on?? Am I losing my mind? My head hurts. It hurts worse than it ever has. 

Shell shocked, I struggle to form words. 

She opens the exit door while the flight is still in midair. 

“What are you doing? Don’t do that. Why are you opening the door?!?!?”

“I have to go, Vijay. Our journey together comes to an end now. Remember, you’re never really alone.” The lady pulls the latch, stands at the edge, and takes one final look at me before saying, “Have faith. It’ll keep you strong. It won’t let you be alone. When you find it hard to go on, look inside and tap into the faith that was once bestowed upon you. It will always keep us close.”

“Us?”

“ Who are you? WHO ARE YOU?” 

“You know who I am, Vijay.” 

Letting the door handle go, the lady lets herself fall into the darkness. 

“NOOOO! STOP! NOOOOOOO!”

“Excuse me. Excuse me. EXCUSE ME, SIR?!?! SIR?!?!? 

My eyes open as my entire body jerks to awaken me. I look around. Everybody is at their seat. Everybody except Padma. Two air hostesses are staring at me. The man in the aisle seat, too, has a concerned look on his face. 

“Are you okay, Sir?” asks one air hostess. I could feel the sweat drip from my forehead. I look around once again. “Where’s Padma? The lady who is sitting here, where is she?” The two hostesses look at each other. Their expressions exude bewilderment. One of them goes down the aisle before returning, saying, “Sir, I just checked the seating list. There is no one sitting here. In fact, there isn’t even a Padma on the flight. Sir, do you require any sort of medication? You were shouting in your sleep.”

“In my sleep? Was it all a dream? No. No way.”

I could feel my heart race. “Had I been dreaming this whole time without even realizing?” The air hostesses kept asking if I needed anything, but words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. To be fair, I couldn’t even think straight. 

“Sir, we’re about to land. We’ll get you medical attention once we do.” The air hostesses leave. I take a sip from the cup of water on the tray table before me. The cup was filled to the brim, but I had taken a sip while speaking to Padma. Padma. I could feel myself getting sick. My head still hurt. 

The flight landed, but I still couldn’t make sense of what I had just been through. Maa. I need to call Maa. I took out my phone and started dialing my mom’s number when my phone rang. It’s the house help. I receive the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Vijay bhai. Vijay bhai. Lakshmi Ji is not picking up the phone for the past few hours. I have been knocking on the door, calling her phone, the landline. She isn’t responding. Vijay bhai, please call her and come fast. Vijay bhai—”

I disconnect the call immediately. My whole body begins to feel lifeless. My head feels heavy. Shaking myself off, I start redialling Maa’s number and call her. 

The phone rings. It keeps ringing and ringing and ringing.

“Have faith”

I rush out of the flight and run through the airport. Immigration, baggage claim, customs - if I had it my way, I would bulldoze over everybody there to just reach home. I catch the first cab I see and tell him to drive faster than he ever had before. Luring him with extra money, I request him. It works somewhat. Traffic. Oh, this f***ing traffic. I forgot how crowded the roads get back home. Seeing my building from the window, I throw whatever money I have at the driver and jump out. Running. I start running home. I dash past the security guards, who fail to recognize who I am. They start chasing me as I make my way upstairs. The house help is there outside the door. She’s petrified. 

“VIJAY BHAI! Vijay bhai. She’s not opening the door…”

“Anand?”

“He’s coming, but I couldn’t get through to him.”

Finding no better option, I run into the door at full force to break it. Instead, I bruise my shoulder. The security guards catch up but soon realize who I am. They offer to help. The three of us start running into the door together. Again, nothing. Finally, after a handful of more attempts, the door gives in. I run. Run to Maa’s room. She’s there, sleeping in bed. Eternally asleep. I shake her to wake her up, but something tells me she isn’t getting up today. 

“MAA! MAA! MAA GET UP! PLEASE MAA…”

As I keep shaking her, a paper slips from her stone-cold hands. I pick it up. 

“VIJAY” 

It's for me. Unfolding the piece of paper, I begin reading what’s inside.

“I have to go, Vijay. Our journey together comes to an end now. Remember, you’re never really alone. Have faith. It’ll keep you strong. It won’t let you be alone. When you find it hard to go on, look inside and tap into the faith that was once bestowed upon you. It will always keep us close.”

Hugging Maa's motionless body, I finally understand everything.