The Faces We Long to See

Imagine this: You’ve just returned from a trip, having navigated the familiar airport routine — security lines, scanners, the usual. But this time, something strikes you differently as you clear the final checkpoint and shunt your luggage towards the exit. It’s not just seen; it’s felt.

.: :.

There I was, fresh off a flight, and I couldn’t help but notice something striking. Do you know those facial recognition systems at passport control? Impressive, sure. Machines whirring, beeping, scanning documents, recognising faces. They’re fast, they’re efficient. It’s technology at its peak, streamlining what used to be a long, human-driven process. Impersonal but effective. That’s the scene on one side of the airport.

When I moved beyond the systems of digital precision, the atmosphere shifted. As I pushed my luggage, here, in the arrivals hall, the scene transforms. Teenagers huddle together, smartphones in hand, homemade signs aloft — a buzzing hive, eagerly awaiting a friend’s return. Over there, a tearful couple, lost in the embrace of their children, a reunion that’s been long in the making.

This was facial recognition powered by affection and memory, not algorithms.

For a moment, the room scanned me, and I could feel the collective anticipation — the expectant gazes of hundreds, each pair of eyes telling a story of waiting, of longing. I noticed the anxious grip on bouquets, flowers bunched in hands trembling with…