“Sir! I can´t give you…”, replied the Airhostess with her Italian accent. Her reply left me astound, but her calm was misleading. I struggled to grapple with strange sense of the moment and I struggled to realize, what exactly was going on, there amidst the clouds.
In the early hours of 23 June, 2016 I reached Kempegowda International Airport, Bangalore to fly to the eternal city, Rome. That was my second flight journey, a unique and an all-important journey of my life as I was on my way to begin my studies in a prestigious institute. This meant studying ancient languages, for which I had no background. 4 years younger than what I am today, was confused and unsure about my capabilities, to handle the demands of my future studies and the unforeseen challenges that life might throw at me in a distant land.
Two and half hours since I left from
Bangalore, I landed in Dubai International Airport to take my connecting flight
to the ancient city. As doubts and fears kept creeping into my mind, I just
remembered the words of one of my friends, who had told me that, the institute
where I was destined to study, has best teachers and they will make me learn.
As the journey from Dubai began, my sight
faded and I slowly slipped into slumber. As I opened my eyes it was about 45
minutes to land in the Fiumicino International Airport, Rome. We were just two
in the row. I was at the window seat and a child, aged around 8–10, was seated
at the Aisle.
And there came the Airhostess, with the
final round of drinks, if any one needed. And the little boy at the aisle took
a glass of water. “And you Sir…?”, asked the airhostess politely. “May I have a
glass of water”. “Sir, I can’t give you”, out came the reply that dumb struck
me. I felt uncomfortable but was it no mood to get into a quarrel, as I already
had other anxieties. “That’s fine, Madam”, I replied and leaned back on my
seat. I honestly did not understand what made her deny my request. It embarrassed me for a while.
But she did not move. She was still there.
“Sir! I can´t give you…”, replied the airhostess with
her Italian accent. Her reply left me nervous, but her calm was misleading. I
knew I was missing some link. “Sir, I can’t give you. But you can take it…”.
The anxieties which I already had, the embarrassment of the moment and the
surprise that her words threw in–all hit me together in a moment. I can never
forget what I felt like for a while. It was only then that I noticed, she was
carrying a tray in her right hand with a few cups of water and a few empty cups
and a little flask of black-coffee in the other hand. She was not with the
usual drinks and snacks trolley which we otherwise find. And then all that she
said made sense. She was right. She couldn’t give it but I could take it.
I reached my destination and life moved on. I was
learning ancient languages, as rest of my studies depended on my performance
that year. I had new teachers for both the languages. Teaching is an art. It is
like wine, with time it keeps getting better. Initial years of teaching are
still an experiment.
Six months since I landed, the same feelings, that I
cannot express with words, the feelings that I was through during my travel,
revisited me; the demands of the study, self-doubts, sense of embarrassments at
times.
I was there sitting at my chair, lost within myself,
in a foreign land. Rome has that unique dynamic where it makes someone who
comes from outside –no one, no matter how strong and popular the person is. As
I went through a sense of being nobody and incapable of handling what was
before me, I heard in my ears, the voice of that airhostess, ringing; “I can’t
give you. But you can take it.” And it all made sense in a while. I realized,
teachers or anyone else, can never make one learn, or provide one the keys to
the ancient languages or to the mysteries around us, no matter how excellent or
talented they are. They could create at best an atmosphere, a pool of
knowledge. But person alone, with self-will, can take it. For me, life changed
then on as it gave me a new perspective. I have completed my studies and have
moved on.
As said before, Rome breaks a person from being
someone to no one, but the same city also forms the same person to move from
being no one to someone. Rome was not built in a day. Same applies to our
lives. Each has to pick the lessons that the reality throws at him or her, to
find the keys of life to unlock the impossible.
That flight journey taught me how to find myself
amidst a city of ruins and monuments.
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