Airports have a strange energy.
People arrive.
People leave.
Some reunite.
And some… pass by without ever realizing how close they were.
Sia stood near the terminal corner, boarding pass held carefully in her hand.
Her backpack rested on her shoulders, her eyes fixed on the departure screen.
Destination: Geneva.
Her heart tried to stay calm,
but inside, a quiet excitement pulsed steadily.
This wasn't a trip for leisure.
No holiday plans.
No sightseeing lists.
This journey was for the version of herself she was becoming.
She checked her phone—
a missed call from her mother.
Sia called back immediately.
"Message me once you land," her mother said, worry clear in her voice.
"I will, Maa," Sia replied softly. "Everything will be fine."
She ended the call and took a deep breath.
This is real, she reminded herself.
And I earned this.
---
In the same airport,
but a different terminal,
Yuvan adjusted the strap of his laptop bag.
His flight had been delayed, and he sat in the waiting area, reviewing documents on his screen.
The next phase of his workshop included international exposure—
Geneva.
The same city.
The same timeline.
Yet he had no idea
that someone else was heading there too,
someone whose life had already been running parallel to his.
He closed the file and leaned back.
Airports overwhelmed him—
too many faces,
too many untold stories.
His eyes scanned the people passing by.
Students.
Professionals.
Families.
Everyone seemed to be standing at some turning point.
---
Sia walked toward the coffee counter.
She stood in line, earbuds in, soft music playing.
Her attention was on the menu.
From behind, someone spoke politely,
"Excuse me."
She stepped aside slightly.
For half a second—
their reflections appeared together in the glass panel.
Just half a second.
No eye contact.
No awareness.
The universe captured a moment
they never noticed.
---
Yuvan took his coffee and moved toward a seat by the window.
The runway was clearly visible.
Planes stood in line, waiting to depart.
He opened his notebook to a blank page and wrote:
"Some cities change you before you even reach them."
He didn't know why he wrote it.
He just did.
---
Sia walked toward the boarding gate.
The announcement echoed through the terminal:
"Final call for Geneva."
Her heartbeat quickened.
She adjusted her bag, switched off her phone,
and joined the line.
While waiting, her eyes drifted around—
a couple saying an emotional goodbye,
a group of students taking selfies,
and a lone boy by the window, deeply focused, writing something in his notebook.
She didn't look twice.
Not every detail in life demands attention.
---
Inside the flight, Sia sat by the window.
As the plane rose above the clouds, a calm washed over her.
As if the world below had paused for a moment.
She closed her eyes.
"If everything goes right,"
she thought,
"I'll be proud of myself."
---
Yuvan's flight took off a little later.
The same sky.
A different angle.
He watched the city fade behind them.
Thoughts of negotiations, ethics, and global responsibility filled his mind.
Yet an unfamiliar feeling interrupted—
The future suddenly feels closer than ever.
---
Geneva. Day One.
Sia stood outside the conference venue.
The building was modern, flags aligned neatly at the entrance.
She straightened her blazer and adjusted her badge.
Her heart raced slightly.
Inside, voices blended together—
different accents, different languages.
The world felt vast…
and yet, within reach.
---
In another wing of the same building,
Yuvan sat through his workshop orientation.
The same structure.
The same air.
The speaker said,
"This city has witnessed history. And now, it will shape yours."
Yuvan noted it down.
---
During the lunch break, the corridors grew busy.
People moved between sessions.
Sia crossed one hallway, checking her schedule on her phone.
Yuvan walked in the opposite direction, absorbed in discussion.
Only a few steps separated them.
Someone suddenly stopped between them to ask for directions.
The flow broke.
They missed each other—
by seconds.
---
That evening, Sia sat in her hotel room.
Exhausted.
Overwhelmed.
But happy.
She messaged her mother:
"Reached safely. The city is beautiful."
Then she opened her diary.
"Day one.
I feel small… but in a good way."
---
Yuvan closed his notes late that night.
City lights reflected outside the window.
Geneva was quiet—
yet powerful.
At the bottom of the page, he wrote:
"Some connections don't begin with a meeting."
---
That night,
in the same city,
in different rooms,
under the same sky,
two people fell asleep—
unaware that their stories had already crossed paths.
They hadn't met.
But destiny had already placed them
almost in the same frame.
---