I waddle around on the slippery 
floors of the airport,
A whoosh of air levitating
my stole,
I walk towards the check-in
loaded with my bags,
passport, visa and my ticket.
The scales scream a violation
of the weight limit,
I fumble with the keys of my bags
swapping, shifting and juggling
with the excess stuff,
I then receive a nod of approval
from the ground staff.
‘You are good to go.’ buzzes
in my ear.
From Chennai to Dubai
and back and forth,
It never changes.
It never does.
Boarding cards punched,
seats assigned,
belts buckled.
I am good to go
In the end,
I am always good to go.
A wave of nostalgia
sweeps me off my feet
A bell of hope
rings in my ears.
I am going home
to my mother, father and brother
I am good to go,
In the end
I am always good to go.
Airports scare me, excite me, 
enthrall me and makes me cry.
It is the home of goodbyes 
and smiles.
Tears of pain and
tears of joy,
It rips people apart
and unites them, the clock
ticks and ticks
moments swirl by.
But I will be safe
in the airport, it’s a warm
cocoon to think about
loved ones.
So I am good to go
In the end, I am always good to go.

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