Say ‘Boom!’

It happened many years ago, long before 9/11 and assorted such horrors. We were en route from Mumbai to London when we had a transit stop at Frankfurt airport, having chosen to go the long way around to our destination. Sitting in an airport lounge is perhaps the most boring activity, or inactivity, that I can conceivably think of. There is nothing to do except watch people or read and, since you are almost just off a plane and waiting to get on another and have lost track of which time zone you may be in, you cannot possibly stay awake for too long to do either. And so it was with us. Fortunately for our collective sanity, we had dealt with this sort of situation before and were using all our learned and cultivated strategies to manage it this time, too.

First off, to wander about looking at all the shops. We peeped in at Hermes, stopped briefly at Swarovski, spent a while in the bookstore and pottered through an array of chocolates, but bought nothing, since it was the start of a longish vacation and loading up was not on the current schedule. Just outside a store that we looked at but couldn’t muster up enough enthusiasm to visit, was a small black bag. I saw it, ignored it and went on. My father wondered with minimal interest whether it was lost luggage or maybe, he chuckled, a bomb. We had all been watching reruns of Peter Sellers as a fabulously accented Inspector Clouseau and were still giggling at his vowels.

Just then, chaos erupted around us. A posse of armed and heavily flak jacketed men with mean-looking weapons rushed in and cordoned off a largish area around the bag. A cart full of equipment was rolled in and various wire-trailing devices unpacked. Two men in heavy body-protective wear approached the small piece of luggage with understandable caution. Around the security tape holding back the crowds, people gathered, speculating, worrying, avidly waiting. We stood further back, too tired to be too active about our curiosity, but wondering what would happen with a certain apprehension and not only a bad situation, but also what the aftermath of the turmoil would be. For us, as for many others, there were planes to catch, places to be, lives to lead.

Soon after the experts arrived, the bag was placed under a heavy cover and everyone moved back. Counting began – 1…2…3… and there was a brief but intense flash and a muffled BANG. People involuntarily stepped back a few paces, then crowded back in to see what had happened. Relieved that it had been nothing but a few forgotten toiletries - a bottle of shampoo, a tube of toothpaste, some deoderant, some other bits and pieces - We heard the initial announcements for the departure of our flight and gathered ourselves together, heading for the gate. London was expecting us.