Weary....
I saw a man today.
What struck me hard was his exhaustion. Not from physical exertions but the trials and tribulations of life's journey. From the way his shoulders drooped and the way he dragged his feet, you could feel his sadness.
He was alone at McDonald's. I got into the queue in front of him thinking he was not ordering. He did not say anything, just walked to the side. He was very gentle and soft-spoken. He counted the coins he had and ordered two of the cheapest burgers there. He sat in corner of the restaurant. Alone. It was heartbreaking.
I have no idea why I am so affected by him. But maybe the fact that the whole scene took place at the airport made a difference.
I've always had very little liking for the airport. Someone once asked me whether I consider the airport a happy or a sad place. To me, it isn't a place where people welcome their loved ones but a place where sad goodbyes occur repeatedly.
It is a place where families are separated, friends are distanced and couples are torn apart. It is where people first lay their feet on a foreign ground. With no one to turn to they have to rely on their limited/no knowledge of the country they are in to get them by.
The old man has been at the airport for three days. He was wearing the same clothes I last saw him wearing, carrying the same tattered luggage bag.
He looked different today. He was limping. He looked weaker than he did three days ago. He was wandering around the airport. I am curious to find out who/what he is waiting for. I wouldn't want to be him.
I hate being alone. I detest feeling lonely. I wished I could have done something for him. But I didn't. I couldn't.
