I have about 6.5 Kgs on my back. The waist pouch has about a few hundred dollars along with my boarding pass to London and eventually Philly. A hand bag hangs on my left arm.
I walk five steps and halt and resume this pattern. The immigration checking never seems to get done. I find it hard to frame my family and loved ones waving to me from the the visitors section, since they are so far away and the queue is moving.
As I approach the Immigration desk all their expressive faces out there seem to disappear from the fairly readable to the illegible. My heart seems to be sinking into a bottomless well....like I am losing some part of me.
I want to be able to clear the Immigration check as soon as I can but I am trying to slow down that I may not lose sight of the people trying to catch sight of me standing on their toes and letting me know they are there for me, come what may.
Happy memories ring the bells of joy but the pains of departure pour in torrents.
The walk across the Immigration line has been the 'Hardest mile of my life'....
