Small mistakes - heavy price

 As you can guess from the title, this blog is about a small mistake for which I had to pay a heavy price. However this blog is not about advise to be careful, cautious and not even about the price I paid but about the reflections and the insights I gained while paying the price. 

This particular incident  happened at the Dammam International Airport and I was denied entry. I had to book a return ticket to India and till the time of flight I had to stay in the lounge for some 15 odd hours. But those 15 hours were like a life time for me in the cold cabin in the lounge. Though it had a bed and blankets the central AC was pretty high for someone who cannot bear cold. 

And my mind wandered to several places and people across the country. Thankfully I had my hand carry luggage and my phone with international roaming. There were several cabins all empty. 

And with me there was a young man from India who was also sent to the lounge for some reason. The men's cabins were in the other section of the same lounge. He too seemed in despair. And helpless like me. 

The coldness of the AC in the winters reminded me of the deliberate blowing cold winds or setting the  temperature of the AC to blow out cold air as a tool of torture on prisoners. 

Thankfully I had a sweater on me and by chance had a woolen scarf and slip on socks that covered just the heel and toes. It is my toes that freeze first so this was a help though not much. Despite these and the blanket the small cabin was icy. And the food provided to me turned cold in a few seconds. But still it was something that meant a lot. I had food. 

And I thought of the people of Gaza who were living in the icy cold weather in tents with no warm clothes and no food. And how people during famines and wars survive. 

And I was counting my blessings as my thoughts wandered to the many immigrants who are not allowed entry and turned away from the borders. The immigrants of India in the united sates of America who were deported handcuffed. 

The lounge rules didn’t allow me to step out into the corridor for warmth. When I tried, I was told not to open the door. I felt like a prisoner. But hey it was temporary i reminded myself. Come night and I catch the flight back to India and the warmth of home. I yearned for a cup of tea. I was given water and bottled fruit juice but there was no tea. 

This was like a temporary detention center I thought. And my mind went to the detention centers wherein people in India who could not prove their citizenship were being held. What must they be enduring day in and day out. And here I was already disheartened in a few hours with cold emptiness all around. 

But thankfully I remembered to offer namaz though there was no prayer mat unlike in many places in Saudi Arabia where they have prayer mats. Maybe because the airport had prayer rooms. I also had my Quran class notes in my hand carry which was a solace. I listened to the lectures and jotted down the notes. I was so thankful for these things which gave me company and provided the distraction from the weird isolated feelings I was getting. Indeed in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find solace. I also had my anwarul Quran with some important Surahs in my purse which I read from time to time. 

The person at the desk whose duty was to keep watch was from Nepal and spoke Hindi/ Urdu. He told me about an incident similiar to mine. Then he asked me if I wanted something. I said I wanted tea.  I was hungry as it was supper time and the food had not arrived. Also I could not even eat, i just had had a few morsels. 

Then the guy came with not just tea but also some cookies, dates and water. A prayer came from my heart both thanking and blessing the guy. Dates are my all time favourite and the cookies were tasty though the tea had become cold. I felt full. 

So when the last meal of the day arrived I could not eat it. It was the same rice, bland chicken curry, with a few pieces of cucumber, a small piece of red velvet cake as dessert. I gave it to the only person present there - the staff member and asked him to pass it to any cleaner at the airport. 

The persons at the desk kept changing, they were polite lent me their mobile charger whenever I wanted, the bathroom cleaner who came in the night was a Pakistani guy and there was no one at the reception desk. So he told me I could walk around the corridor in front of the lounge. He was friendly and even tipped me to stand at the point where i could overlook the visitors lounge as my spouse had come there with my luggage. And we could not meet as I was not allowed out (kinda imprisoned ). So we just waved at each other. He checked in my luggage and left. 

When it was time for my flight a security officer came with my boarding pass, took my passport from me and walked me to the board gate. He pushed my trolley as I was breathless with all the walking. My laptop bag on my back and pushing my hand luggage. 

I was made to wait and could board in after all the passengers had board. My boarding pass and passport with some papers ( probably the report of the airport authorities) was handed to the air hostess who asked what offence I had committed to be deported. 

When it was time to serve food the air hostess asked me if I wanted something because it was all complimentary and that I could have anything.  All I wanted was tea, 

And tea I had. Hot masala tea. I usually do not like the tea served in planes but this time it was different. The Masala chai was comforting. I relaxed but could not sleep. And when I reached India another ordeal awaited me.

I had to wait till all the passengers left, then an official of the airlines was called and my passport and other documents handed to him. I had to accompany him to the airport authority section and after a wait of more than two hours and some interrogation I was handed my passport. 

I walked out relieved but traumatic and laden with unpleasant memories and insights that are going to last a life time. Coming home to warmth and love after those endless hours of empty coldness was all that mattered. After all it was the calls and the messages of my loved ones that gave me strength. 

I learnt a lot of lessons in this 24 hours and everything happens for a reason though the reason remains largely hidden sometimes. I also learnt who truly care for you and who don't. And how much or how little you matter to some whom we still call family and friends.