Airports have a unique personality. Artificially warm voices, zombies as security personnel, rows of chairs receiving multiple bums within a matter of minutes, highly priced insipid food and passengers lost in themselves.

My flight was getting delayed. I sat on the chair, looked around for friendly faces, tried to read a novel, stared at banners, played with the handle of my bag and got bored.

I decided to have a glass of water. After a brief walk and a trip to the urinal, I found that a woman had occupied the chair next to the one I had been sitting on. I felt a little awkward, but that was the only vacant chair available. I occupied the chair, careful not to brush with the lady.

Settled finally, I looked around, avoiding the lady. My gaze stopped at a man who looked at me with a glint of mischief. His lips betrayed a smile. He nodded at me.

It was an embarrassing moment. Perhaps the lady next to me was a celebrity and I had violated her personal space by sitting so close to her. But if the lady was offended, she did not express so. Reassured, I leafed through the novel, stared at banners, played with the handle of my bag and got bored again.

I looked around and the gentleman again caught my eyes. He nodded, with a hint of a smile. I nodded back, trying to place him in my memory. I was sure that I had not met him earlier, but then I could be wrong as well.

At the announcement of a departure call, the gentleman got up and stood in the queue. He was behind a large man.

Not talking to anyone, he was still nodding.