A Seat, a Sky, and a Thousand Stories

I love flying. I love planes. I love aircrafts. And now, I have one more reason to love them — our 11-month-old daughter. Every time she flies, I make a mental note (and often a digital one) of the aircraft she’s on. Yes, I am that parent — the one who’s as interested in flight numbers and aircraft types as in the actual destination.

Her little flight log is already shaping up to be something special. It includes a Boeing 777-300ER, a Dreamliner, an Airbus A330, several A320s, and a handful of Boeing 737s for good measure. It’s a list I update with quiet pride after every trip — a small tradition I have started, hoping that one day she will look back on it with a smile and maybe even share my fascination for flying.

But this piece isn’t just about aircraft models — though, truth be told, I could write pages about those. It’s about something simpler, more universal, and surprisingly powerful: the window seat. That humble little curved square of glass that offers more than just a sneak peek of your arrival city.

To me, the window seat offers a view of the world, and sometimes, if you are paying close attention, even a view into yourself. It does something magical. It transforms flying from being just a way to get from point A to point B into a journey of wonder. It's where the real experience begins long before we touch down.

Mumbai from the Left Side: Flying out of Mumbai is always special, but it becomes something else entirely when you are sitting on the left side of the aircraft especially on a clear morning or late afternoon. As the plane climbs and banks over the Arabian Sea, you get an incredible aerial sweep of the Bandra-Worli Sea Link, the elegant curve of Marine Drive, and the skyline of South Mumbai. On some days, you can even trace the outline of our city’s coast, watching as it slowly dissolves into the clouds.

If you are flying south, this side is where the magic happens. It’s one of those underrated aviation joys - not something you would find in a travel guide, but something you only learn by doing it often. And for someone like me, who has flown in and out of Mumbai countless times, that left-side window feels like a little tradition. A visual goodbye. A reminder of how beautifully chaotic the city is, even from 30,000 feet.

Flying to Leh: If there is one flight in India where the window seat truly transforms the journey, it’s the one to Leh. As the plane makes its descent, it feels less like just arriving somewhere and more like entering another realm altogether. The landscape begins to shift dramatically, flat plains give way to rugged peaks, snow-dusted ridges, and winding mountain valleys that look almost too perfect to be real. You don’t just see the Himalayas, you feel their presence.

I still remember one particular flight. I was glued to the window as we dipped below the clouds, revealing a jagged canvas of ice and rock that stretched as far as the eye could see. I even posted an Instagram story that day with the caption: ‘Going North of the Wall.’ That reference couldn’t have been more apt. It felt like we were flying beyond the known world, heading into something wild, ancient, and beautiful.

It’s one of those flights where the view outside doesn’t just excite you for the trip ahead, it reminds you why you travel in the first place.

Australia from the Sky: Last year, Heta and I flew from Mumbai to Melbourne on a direct Air India flight, and while the comfort of a direct long-haul was great, the real highlight was the view outside the window. About halfway through the flight, as we began approaching the western coast of Australia, I looked out from my window on the left side of the plane and what followed was pure magic.

For nearly four straight hours, we flew along the southern coastline of Australia. It was like watching the country slowly reveal itself. Aerial views of endless beaches, cliffs that dropped into turquoise waters, and vast stretches of untouched land. I kept looking down, mesmerised, trying to absorb every detail of a country I was only just arriving in.

And just when I thought that was the highlight, the flight back surprised me even more. This time, I was seated on the right side of the aircraft. Somewhere over southern Australia, I glanced outside and saw something incredible: the pink lakes. They looked surreal, patches of pastel pink scattered across the landscape like nature had spilled paint on the Earth. I had read about them before but seeing them from the sky, without expecting to, made the moment even more special.

Window Views I Look Forward To:

For all the unforgettable views I have had from 36,000 feet, there are still so many more I dream about. That’s the beauty of the window seat. It turns travel into anticipation, even before you land. There’s a shortlist in my head (okay, maybe not that short) of window views I am hoping to check off in the years to come.

At the top of the list is flying over Mount Fuji on a clear approach into Tokyo. Japan’s most iconic peak, perfectly symmetrical and often rising above the clouds, is one of those aviation bucket list moments for me. Then there’s the dream of catching the Northern Lights from a plane window, somewhere over Iceland, Finland, or northern Canada. I have read stories and seen photos of passengers lucky enough to witness the aurora from the sky, and every time, it feels like magic caught midair.

Queenstown, New Zealand is another one I look forward to. The descent is famously scenic. Snow-capped peaks, winding alpine rivers, and lakes that reflect the sky like glass. It’s a pilot’s favourite approach and a traveller’s dream landing. Then there’s Cape Town, with Table Mountain rising dramatically behind the city, offering a jaw-dropping view just before touchdown. I would love to be on the right side of the aircraft on that flight one day.

Santorini, of course, is on the list. Its crescent shape, whitewashed buildings, and cliffside villages would look incredible from above, especially if you are flying in during the golden hour. Similarly, landing in Bora Bora or the Maldives, where overwater villas fan out like petals into turquoise lagoons, must be breathtaking. Then there is the approach into Rio de Janeiro, with the Christ the Redeemer statue, Sugarloaf Mountain, and Copacabana Beach all coming into view in one sweeping glance.

Landing in Bhutan’s Paro Airport is on my list too. Not for the scenery alone, but because it’s one of the most challenging landings in the world. Only a handful of pilots are certified to make the approach through narrow mountain passes. If you are in the window seat during that descent, you are part of something very few get to experience.

And of course, there’s Greenland on a transatlantic flight, where passengers sometimes get to see sprawling glaciers and deep blue fjords from their windows. Even flying over the Sahara Desert on a route between Europe and Africa would be a surreal, endless canvas of sand dunes and shadows.

The world has so many incredible sights, and the window seat offers a front-row view. Some I have been lucky to witness, others I am still chasing, but that’s the joy of it. Because every time I board a flight and take that seat by the window, I know I am not just going somewhere. I’m seeing something. And that, to me, is the most exciting part.

As I write this, I am in London, and I fly back to Mumbai tomorrow. So, you already know what seat I am going to have. I have got my spot by the window picked out on the Boeing 777, and I am looking forward to that perfect moment when the aircraft lifts off, banks slightly, and the London skyline reveals itself one last time before we climb into the clouds.

So, next time you board a flight, take a moment. Pick the window seat. You never know what story might be waiting outside.