Ah Aeroplanes! The majestic whiteness unfailingly turns my face white. The gigantism releases a slithering sense of awe in my nerves that is polluted by a suspended anxiety. The gliding is consequential of a fluttering breath and a muttering mouth . The oily odour smothers my nostrils.The heaving engines ignite an aerodynamic logic and a dynamic paranoia simultaneously. The clock of fear ticks rapidly with ascent and descent. The timely ascending and descending renders an untimely heartbeat. The airiness of this airy being suffocates my being. In every trip, my logic usually takes the back seat, and it's mostly the paranoia sneering at the steering.
Bizzare notions get hammered like a nail in my cross-wired cerebrum.
Is it a mere coincidence that flight and fright are distinguished by a single alphabet? Alarmingly both fright and flight are synonymous with fear. (The latter in my head).
The fear diffuses like a venomnous gas in my blood, and grabs the rein of my veins. I try to put a coat of calm on my agitated torso. The coldness of this fear freezes my tranquility. The fear is the gunshot that causes my heartbeat to race and my pulse to pace.
Not alienating my fear and subsequently warming up to it is my plan of action. I feel complacent with my foresighted stratergy. Amidst the smugness, another revolutionary notion struggles to squeeze out of my grey matter. The bulb in the thought bubble glows with an unattractive risk. I am nudged by the winged and haloed positivity to shake hands with my fear. (The same hands that unblinkingly tremble).
Overcoming one's fear is too oldschool. Befriending fears is the new "in" thing. Just kidding, Overcoming my flight fear is the finishing line for me. Currently my current step is merely on the starting line.
In my attempts to co-exist with my fear and embody a hospitable roommate, I have to undertake a Herculean task . To make some room for my new roommate , some of my constitutional anxiety and transient apprehension are directed to vacate my chest.
My journeys in the aeroplane are everything but plain.To word it better, my journeys are nothing short of adventures. They are a riveting account of my impracticality, irrationality and heartfelt accomplishments.
Life seen with binoculars is a see-saw motion. When a bit of it falls downhill, another bit rises uphill. So whilst I humbly greeted my fear of flying, I also bid farewell to another fear of mine. "Fear of socializing". To distract my irrationality, my dormant social genes heroically sprung into activity. Hence I embark upon the ship of "talking" and sail through the sea of turbulent flights.
What started off as ordinary tete-a-tete's transfigured into some extraordinary life stories. The one hour journey witnesses widespread emotions across my widely spread face.
Stories of blisses and misses, of anticpiations and rejections, of wars and bars, of devotions and commotions, of sacrifices and vices, of gory and glory, unfold infront of my fixed eyeballs and moved soul. of .These heart-wrenching narrations rinse my face with that nececssary splash of awakening. Overwhelmed with the "real" life situations, my problem now seems like a tiny reflection in the mirror.
Flight and fright surely rhyme together, but so does flight and might. This is the same might that bestows the light to fight the fright!