I sat in my seat next to the window in the Airbus that was taking me from Bangalore to Mumbai the other day, and heard the voice of the pilot over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “We will be hitting turbulence for a while, but trust me, I will take you up just above the clouds!”
I looked out of my window, and all I saw was a huge expanse of grey. It was not nice to look at and I shuddered as there were even streaks of threatening lightning, and the aircraft rocked a bit. I heard a passenger sighing worriedly behind me, and in the seat next to me, was sure the woman was tense as her fingers gripped the armrest tightly and brushed my elbow.
And then I felt the Airbus lift. It fought the clouds, it cut through the grey and like a knife went through the threatening turbulence and suddenly I saw the most spectacular sight: there over the clouds, the sun was shining, bright and happy. It peeped in through the window, as if telling all of us, “Hey, I was up there all the time, waiting for you!”
I leaned into my window and looked down. There below were the clouds. Like mild sheep in a meadow, they appeared harmless, gentle and innocent, not for a moment looking like the formidable fighting, threatening forces we had fought our way through.
Just above the clouds the sun still shines, doesn’t it? How often we face treacherous, terrible days when we are buffeted around like nine pins on a bowling range. Bewildered and broken we cry out to everybody. We weep, we hit our heads in frustration, sometimes in anger against the wall, against huge problem, and feel it won’t go away.