P.Unnikrishnan

The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, signalling takeoff. As I fastened my seatbelt, I glanced out the window, watching lush green coconut groves dissolve into a canvas of white clouds. Those clouds, always a source of wonder, seemed like nature’s sketchpad, inspiring me to find hidden figures in their fluffy expanse.

Settling into my seat, I reached for the armrest, only to find my seatmates monopolising it. To my left sat Hameed, an amiable Indian businessman from Kerala, and to my right was Huges de la Baume, a French entrepreneur exploring zinc battery startups. Both were brimming with energy and before long, a lively conversation ignited between them, leaving me sandwiched in the middle as a silent observer.

Huges scanned the menu as the air hostess began serving dinner. “What is this...‘palak butter’?” he asked, his French accent adding charm to his inquiry. Hameed, familiar with Indian cuisine, enthusiastically recommended it. 

Their conversation flowed freely. Hameed shared tales of his flourishing Gulf ventures, while Huges spoke about his love for Thailand, where he now resides. “It’s a land of beauty and opportunity,” he explained. As they discussed booming markets and global economies, I quietly managed my meal, feeling like an invisible mediator between these animated strangers. They seemed utterly oblivious to the inconvenience I faced, having to manoeuvre my meal with my hands without the stability of a shared armrest for support.

The discussion turned serious as Hameed leaned forward, lowering his voice. “What do you think about the ongoing war in Palestine?” he asked. Huges paused, his expression sombre. “It’s a tragedy,” he replied thoughtfully. “Wars leave scars on nations and people for generations. The loss of innocent lives, especially children, is beyond comprehension.”

Hameed nodded, his face reflecting the weight of their conversation. Seizing the moment, Huges added, “Wars never have true winners. Both sides lose—whether in lives, economies, or the trust of their people.”

As the discussion deepened, we spoke of the enduring Palestine conflict. I highlighted Bahrain’s unwavering stance—advocating peace, justice, and a two-state solution. “It’s a position of principle,” I noted, “rooted in the leadership’s belief that dialogue is the only way forward.”

Their attention shifted toward me, and I shared insights on Bahrain, my home for over three decades. I described its peace-driven initiatives, like the King Hamad Global Centre for Peaceful Coexistence and the Manama Dialogue, which promote dialogue over conflict. “Bahrain,” I said, “symbolises how nations can unite despite differences.”

Bahrain has become a global emblem of peaceful coexistence. His Majesty King Hamad’s commitment to fostering interfaith dialogue and understanding is unparalleled. The King Hamad Global Centre and the Bahrain Declaration stand as enduring testaments to his vision—a vision where cultural and religious diversity is celebrated as a strength, not a division.

Building on this foundation, His Royal Highness Prince Salman bin Hamad Al Khalifa, the Crown Prince and Prime Minister, has championed innovation and economic resilience. Through the Economic Vision 2030, Bahrain is carving a path toward sustainable development, ensuring progress for future generations.

Hameed acknowledged Bahrain’s inclusiveness. “The people here,” he said, “are its greatest asset—welcoming, warm, and proud of their heritage.”

Our conversation delved into the harrowing toll of wars—from World War II to the ongoing conflicts in Syria and Yemen. “What about the children?” I asked. “They grow up surrounded by hatred and devastation. How can we expect them to become peacemakers when all they know is violence?” While children in peaceful nations revel in life’s comforts and luxuries, their counterparts in war-torn regions cry out—not for toys or treats, but for the most necessities, like a bottle of clean water.

The gravity of my words hung in the air, leaving both men silent. Breaking the tension, Hameed slanted his seat. “A peaceful land makes for a prosperous economy,” he said. Both turned to me, noticing my struggle to claim a piece of the armrest. Smiling, I said, “I agree with you, but perhaps you could share the armrest to make my space freer, too?”

Laughter erupted, dispelling the heaviness of our earlier discussion. “Of course, with pleasure,” they said in unison, adjusting their arms.

As the flight descended, I leaned forward, hoping to glimpse the stunning island that had transformed my dreams into reality—a sanctuary for countless expatriates. The captain’s voice announcing the landing echoed through the cabin, but when I glanced around, Hameed was already fast asleep, and Huges peacefully drifted off towards me. Bertrand Russell’s words resonated: “War does not determine who is right—only who is left.”