@ ccd

Sitting snug and smug in rooms with walls of glass and trying to guess if it was actually drizzling outside, or just the day-long dust that caused the haze appeared to be the most practical time-killer for me.

By now I had by-hearted the faces of the people sitting in the table next to mine. The chick had been nibbling something for the past one hour. She was so thin. (So- so thin!)Her hair straight-n-shiny hair fell on her shoulder in an oh-so-enviable way. The guy with her bent over the table to get an inch closer.

Also I had stared at the every possible corner at a stretch of at least five minutes.

I was running out of faces to study, and imagine things about.

‘Oh! This Damned thing!’

‘Nothing gets over in one go!’

‘Why? Is it just me!’

‘Will I get swallowed in a matter of minutes?’

‘Swallowed by forces I never would know?’

It was then that I raised my eyes to look at the person with me. Yeah, did I not tell you, that this rainy useless Sunday afternoon; I was actually not alone, sipping coffee. There was someone sitting right next to me. ‘X’ is preposterous. Let ‘A’ be the name.

Like half an hour ago, A was still busy with the frappe’. Man, how slow can one go about things? C’mon, your life couldn’t have been more messed up than mine.

Since to spark a conversation with A was a far cry, I would turn back to guessing if it was actually drizzling or it was the day long dust that caused the haze.

Time and again, I would turn to my own cup. Somehow I can never manage to hate coffee the way I hate other things. I tried to see ma face in the dark brown liguid.

But I couldn’t concentrate on that either. As in I couldn’t get away and plunge into an irrelevant chain of thoughts again. Because I kept on waiting for the frappe’ to finish. So that we could get done, and get gone.

I would look at the cars on the road for a moment. Dozens of funky people packed, awaiting the last blast of their happening weekends so that Monday morning, they could get back to their lives afresh. Lots of people. All unknown to me, and still I thought about them. People who’d never belong to this city, people, each one of whom had a past. And thanks to the adaptive human brain, each one was at peace, or was at least in the process of finding glee. Everyone in some screwed up race, with no finishing line. Why? I almost said that aloud, “Why?”

/*Three things that I need in life*/
/*I, coffee & you!*/