I was early at the airport, courtesy of a cancelled meeting prior to my return back home. The biggest problem for people who have a busy meeting schedule when they travel to other cities without their own office is like a bullet fired in the air—ariel for a while, with no destination. Life is like that. Lucky you could be when the last meeting gets cancelled, and you can travel peacefully to the airport in time instead of the last-minute draw of luck to board the flight.

But nothing is easy, as they say. My luggage check-in and security check were done with no panic to push across the rows. The question was what to do for the next hour and a half before the boarding starts. This is where the lounges are really a bliss. For a mere sum of money, you get a fantastic experience of Indian delicacies as well as comfortable seating.

Today that was not the case. By the time I was midway in the queue to prove my credibility of being a holder of a supreme credit card, the concerned team announced the place was fully occupied, and only those who would be okay to stand could proceed. I had nothing to do anyway—a wait for a seat would not hurt, so I walked in—to the fish market. More of a metro term to define the craziness that goes on in a confined space with everyone jumping on a few limited things on offer.

It felt as if everyone was waiting for someone to get up for a plate refill, and the next person would occupy the place. More like musical chairs. I decided to wait and hold on to my bag in one corner. The guy sitting near me got up and moved, and someone else sat, then the next, and the next. I felt this was the long wait at the end of the table, where I would never reach.

The long wait at the end of the table… The good part was that I got to see how people act and react while I was there. Somewhere in between, I got lost among them in my own passage of time, recollecting when I had questions to ask in class or queries during seminars, and my turn never came. Surprisingly, all those questions got resolved or dismissed on their own in due course of time, or you could always skip that question, as life did not depend on a couple of marks more or a little more than that being shared with me.

I figured that this wait can be perennial, with no one really bothered to wait for you. I still struggle at times to ask the question or answer when the opportunity comes, impacting my confidence, and then the struggle at work. I had worked hard for my promotion and had delivered one of the most difficult projects, and when I was not promoted, I felt I was again waiting at the end of the table. I never questioned my reporting manager—I just left the company.

I remembered so many instances where the wait still continues, be it my own house, a simple vacation, or that nice car. Something always comes in between and takes precedence. Such a simple thing to wait for your turn, and it will come… but what will happen if that turn never comes? Now it has a different connotation, a negative one. I wonder if that’s true anymore. Have the times changed where one should not wait but grab every opportunity and feel that everything available outside is for oneself only? Not sure…

The chair in front of me moved, and I was back in the lounge. The seat was finally vacant, and a smile broke out on my face. But I never got to sit at the table in the lounge, and the clock ticked for boarding. My wait was over, but my destination had changed… I was now looking for the confirmed seat on my flight.

The long wait at the end of the table.