The visit to the Isha Yoga Centre in Coimbatore had been a soulful retreat — a time of reflection, stillness, and connection. As I stood near the towering form of Adiyogi, something inside me whispered, “You’re not leaving empty-handed.” And truly, I didn’t. I carried back a blessing in my heart and a memory etched forever in silence.
With my son beside me, we boarded our connecting journey: Coimbatore to Chennai, and then Chennai to Jaipur. A seemingly simple plan — until life decided to test our patience.
Our Chennai to Jaipur flight was scheduled for 8 p.m. We arrived at the airport, checked in, and waited. By 7:30 p.m., murmurs of delay began spreading. There was no proper announcement, no accurate timeline. The waiting lounge was filled with uncertainty and increasing restlessness.
By 8 p.m., a manager arrived to address the growing crowd. But clear answers were missing, and tension was rising. The boarding finally began at 10:50 p.m., bringing a brief sense of relief. But halfway through the process, it came to an abrupt halt.
“No, the flight isn’t cancelled,” they said, “but we can’t confirm the new departure time.”
That flicker of hope extinguished quickly. Frustration boiled over. Some passengers, already on edge since evening, began arguing with the airline staff. Phones were out, slogans shouted, videos taken. Some kept their calm, while others lost it completely.
The manager, trying to maintain order, was met with a wave of anger. Surrounded and questioned from all sides, unable to offer clear explanations, they struggled to maintain composure. I noticed their eyes — weary, overwhelmed, on the verge of breaking down — but still trying to stand tall. That quiet strength left a mark on me.
Finally, at 2 a.m., we boarded. Fatigued, annoyed, but relieved. As I stepped into the aircraft, one of the passengers turned to an air hostess and said, “Thank you for taking us to Jaipur.” That simple gesture — a moment of appreciation amidst a storm — was deeply moving.
It made me think: while frustration is justified, gratitude is powerful. In a country with such population and potential, why are such mismanagements so common? And while I don’t entirely blame those who lost their temper — some had emergencies, others were simply drained — I still ask, does anger fix anything? Or does it only worsen the chaos?
Though I deeply sympathized with the manager, I stayed silent — unable to speak over the noise. I wish I had said something kind, stood by them, or simply offered presence in solidarity. But I didn’t. That thought stays with me.
That night wasn’t just a delayed flight. It was a reminder — that in the face of unpredictability, our values are tested. And how we respond — with patience, grace, or anger — becomes our real journey.