Taking myself off...

It was slowly moving. Bright sunlight, so bright as to scorch my skin, was flooding through the small window. I was on the brighter side of the runway. I shut the window shield to avoid exposure, to sunlight, to outside. Even a minute didn't pass when I opened it again. I didn't wish to look out, but I didn't wish the cold darkness to shiver my arms either. And I felt better. Cut-off from anything I know I'll pass through in a few minutes is not acceptable for me. I looked out, with my head held tightly against the seat to delay the photophobic headache I knew I'm going to have. I saw nothing significant. I observed nothing to remember. I was not feeling anything, no dismay, no irritation, no joy and nothing. I was waiting for the plane to take off so that I'd get a cup of coffee. I shifted my laptop bag to the seat beside me which was unoccupied (luckily enough). My feet were paining with the strain they underwent while walking from the gate upto there. I took my feet carefully out of the sandals and sat in the most unsophisticated manner I can imagine of. By this time, the plane gained speed. The faster it ran, the preoccupation with coffee faded and I was suddenly excited. I kept looking through the window. It was as if I'd been injected with a good dose of adrenaline and I was, out of the blue, all set to fly. The worries took a break and I started fantasising... Fantasies of all kinds, real or unreal, filled me in. The moment the wheels left the ground, I was also leaving the earthly realities and going to my own world, the world I'd made long ago, for myself, with my closest people in, talking and doing things that made me happy. My parents and I were talking about the last books we read with the points we liked and we didn't, about the movie we were definitely going to watch together, about the diary where we would write reviews separately and then read them together, about certain people who wanted our life to be a mess, but we never said anything to them and just acted, about the house we'd live in when I'd start working, about my father's practice which he should slowly close down to be able to live with me wherever I stay, about the recipe blog my mother should maintain to let the exquisite recipes she knew be carried forward... My cousins and I were gathering together and were laughing and smiling about everything, we were playing our games as we did when J was alive; D2, D3 and I were asking D1 to go the mothers and talk about household things; D2 was composing a song and we both were singing; D3 was talking to us about photography using jargons and we were threatening him to use our own jargons if he didn't stop... T was looking at the mirror and playing snow-white, with me sitting beside, amused. T and I were lying down side by side and talking all night (that is half of a night for her after which she slept off, leaving me to count sheep and cattle for the rest of it)... Awe was coming with a smile and we were walking, talking about everything, with me hiding my excitement and smiling and grinning and chuckling and giggling and laughing... There was no anger, no pain, no illness; everything was perfect. Everything was as clear and beautiful as the shredded blue and white cloud outside my window. Then there was a sound from somewhere. I was slowly coming back. When I was able to perceive the sound fully I realised that it was an announcement of on-board sale. I didn't notice that my cheeks were wet. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, reopened my eyes and reached for my bag to take out the handkerchief. After dabbing it on my face, I looked out. The cloud was still there. However, it seemed somewhat darker, the blue was not so blue after all, it might have been partially muddy as well which I didn't notice before. We were most probably going through the lower level of stratosphere or the upper level of troposphere. The sky is usually clear there due to change in altitude (has nothing to do with any romance of course). The sun was not scorching any more. Estimating the time, I was just fifteen minutes past my take-off, and so would be flying for about another one hour and forty five minutes. I turned my gaze from the window to the opposite side and ordered for one cup of coffee.