Krishna Kumar R. | Creative Nonfiction
D-6 Gate
I was walking through Anna International Airport in India after check-in when my flight was delayed and I heard an announcement.
“If anyone near Gate D-6 understands Hindi, please come to the gate immediately.”
Gate D-6 was my own gate, so I walked over. There I found an older woman in her late fifties, dressed in a traditional abaya, sitting hunched over with her boarding pass, clutched tightly in her trembling hands. The way she sat—small and folded into herself—reminded me of my grandmother.
“Please speak to her and reassure her,” the flight agent urged. We explained that the flight had been delayed and asked her not to panic.
I crouched beside her and spoke gently in Hindi.
“Your flight drawn is delayed. Please don’t worry.” Almost immediately her tears began to subside. She had believed the flight had been cancelled altogether, and in that moment I understood that it was not the delay itself she feared, but the possibility of being stranded alone, far from home.
She told me she needed to reach Dubai the following day for medical treatment. I reassured her. “You will get there,” I said, “Just a little later. Is someone meeting you at the airport? Let’s call them.”
She began searching thorough her handbag until she found a small slip of paper with a pone number carefully written on it.
I called her son. I explained that the flight was only delayed and assured him that I could escort her until we boarded. She spoke to him for a few moments, and when she handed the phone back, the fear had almost disappeared from her face.
While she waited, I introduced her to a few Hindi speaking passengers nearby. Before long, others gathered around too, including people who did not understand a single word of Hindi.
She reached into her bag and offered everyone home made chocolates, dry fruits, and sugar coated candies. To my surprise, no one refused. Smiles, nods, and expressive gestures conveyed everything words could not. Even passengers sitting farther away looked over before smiling themselves
No one asked her name. No one seemed concerned about where she came from. For a little while, everyone simply shared the same small moment of kindness.
When boarding was announced, she squeezed my hand, smiled and walked towards the aircraft with quiet confidence.
I never learned her name, yet I have never forgotten her face.
Krishna Kumar R. is a writer from India whose work draws on travel, everyday encounters, and human experiences. His creative nonfiction and poetry have been submitted to literary journals and magazines. He writes about ordinary moments that reveal resilience, compassion, and the unexpected connections between people.