At EWR

Elmo grinned cheekily, his cheerful red face plastered permanently on the front of the little suitcase. You’d half expect him to spring to life and start to liven up the glum, depressing corridors at the security checkpoint.

The boy whose hand loosely held onto the suitcase was not so cheerful. He heaved, gasping with great effort for breath as a stream of tears trickled down his cheeks. His arm strangled the neck of a worn, brown teddy bear, who too had a permanent smile on its face which seemed to mock the downturned lips of the little boy. Right beside him, his mother’s eyes were red and moist, and she inadvertently looked away to wipe tears that threatened to trickle down. Through the glass window was (what is most likely) the father, standing there in the empty concourse with shoulders hanging and heavy with sadness.

“All objects on the belt!” the TSA woman bellowed. She sounded like a vendor hawking her wares at a market, except her voice was monotonous and penetrating. “Take out everything in your pockets. Paper, pens, coins, mobile phones. NO EXCEPTIONS!” Passengers in front of me scrambled to clear their pockets and strip. Footwear were also removed, even sandals and flip-flops had x-rayed through the belly of Rapiscan. At the command of the security officer, a confused elderly man walked back and forth, back and forth through the metal detectors, looking frail and frightened. “KEEP MOVING DOWN! Place your gels and liquids in the see-through pouch. NO EXCEPTIONS!” The boy, still grief stricken, sighed and heaved some more. Elmo and the teddy bear kept on smiling.

Overhead, the bursting roar of jet engines temporarily silenced everything else. To some, it is the sound of freedom; to others the sound of awe and terror. One day after the ninth anniversary of September 11, the airspace around New York is on heightened alert, and every so often fighter jets seemed to be doing fly-bys around Newark Liberty. In the distance, sunk against the dull, overcast sky was the blurry grey skyline of Manhattan. The Empire State Building looked strikingly lonely without the two iconic towers.

Little planes crawled on the tarmac, as others all too happily hurtled down the runway and skywards. Almost a decade on, the airport continues to be centre stage for all the drama, tears and fears. Flying has turned from every boy (and girl)’s dream to a nightmarish nuisance, and everyone is subject to suspicion, if not to the all-seeing and privacy-invading menace of the full body scanner. Perhaps we could do with Elmo springing to life and lightening up the mood with his big grin and infectious chuckle.

But, no doubt, in no time he would be tackled to the ground, frisked and hauled away in handcuffs