Last Sunday, this time, I was boarding a flight to Malaysia. The feelings were quite mundane, even though it was my first ever visit abroad. The purpose was purely official. It, was, a lot of adjectives that cannot be used side by side in a single sentence.


One of the highlights was the flight there. I couldn't sleep, I've never managed to muster sleep on-board an aircraft, ever. So after a very brief period of going semi fetal and falling barely asleep, I woke up to zero lights around except the signs. I looked out the window and saw what registered in my disoriented state as several million spots in front of my eyes. Further focus revealed them to be stars. I've never flown on late night flights.The sky at 36,000 feet at 23 past 1 in the morning, is a spectacle whose majesty will be assuredly ruined by the words of a human. My face was plastered to the window of the darn emergency exit, staring at the infinitesimal tapestry of jet black, with ever so many glowing dots. It was a humbling experience, and maybe it was because I desperately wanted to believe blindly in something that appealed to me, but I found my God in its sheer vastness and beauty.

If I was sleepy, suddenly I was wide awake.
If I needed inspiration, that image is all I would need.

Indescribable, unfathomable, unexplored.
A spectacle genuinely worthy, of 'awesome'