A couple of weeks ago –

It is dark as we fly into Mumbai.
About 1:00am. Late night. Or very early morning.

Leaving the aircraft after a long flight always feels relieving to me and
Waiting in the aisle for people to unload their belongings makes me impatient.
Minutes feel like hours and I am looking forward to get out.
People move slowly and so does time.
And noticing this thought, I wonder how time moves in general.
What is the rule of time, what is its language?
And is it the same in any place of the world?
At any airport? After all, languages are different in every airport. 
The time of day is different in almost every airport.

“8:46pm”, my phone says as it hasn’t switched to local time yet.

And time moves strangely in that moment. Unusual, unreal, -
Multi-directional maybe? Non-directional? Non-dimensional?

Time moves strangely in that moment. If it moves at all.
And thinking this, I feel the subtle sensation of something powerful being about to happen.
Irreversible. Intense. Inside out.
I will step out of the airplane, I will set foot onto new land.
I will not be the same. Goosebumps.
I step out of the airplane.
The air is stuffy, spicy and aromatic. The air is warm. Goosebumps – again.
I will not be the same.

AtlasEva Burdackenglish