Half an hour

This morning, after she left, when I was puffing same brand, I went through some sort of feelings that I usually experience. Yesterday I was trying to write about same thing but could not do.

People there were roaming here and there with their own sort of walks and styles. HUNKY FUNKY guys and CHINKY PINKY girls in the college uniforms fluttering with each other, middle aged leisurely men in their group sitting on the ground and criticizing the official behaviors, household affairs to political issues. I didn’t see  children today.

After putting a cup of tea on my table, thin young waiter went to his fellow colleague and complained about his master probably….”He had business of 19 hundred yesterday from a single group and this morning too he had business of 8 hundred. But why doesn’t he pay me?? I don’t even have money to buy a new underwear….(comparatively in a lower voice for last word)”. Oops, I could not turn back and see him saying so.

After a couple of minutes I fired new one, a middle aged man asked me  if I was … the one on…. “Oh yes!”, I replied, and made myself smile at him. I don’t know what I thought next when he was telling me about him. I later realized that I just got him say that he is also a … I could not help myself keep silence and pretend to be reading.

Last night, it rained heavily. I looked at the sky.. not so much cloudy but not so sunny either. I felt like I had the same in me, neither sunny nor cloudy. A couple entered the inner room of the cafe and I found myself making some sort of love story taking them as characters. I made the boy betray the girl after fulfilling his desire and the girl ruin her life for sake of her love and the symbol of love growing inside her. What a story? Same conventional bollywood theme… I tried to change the topic.

Yesterday one of my colleagues asked me to write something new for his upcoming issue of magazine. I tried to find a theme around me. There were number of stories around me but I could not figure out appropriate one to write on. Usually I write about myself. Why don’t I try it one more time? I thought about it and remembered her. She might have been still on her way to work. She is applying for visa. She may or may not be leaving me alone. If she does, it may last for ever or just for some years. Anything can happen. We may change, time may change or something else may change but not us.

Globalization is the issue. We have our culture and tradition. I sometime think about this crap globalization and the dead culture and tradition. I fear, everything would make me change and what about her? Or. it may change her and what about me?

I fired the third one and it was almost half an hour she left. I could not concentrate. The man was talking to his buddy in the front table. I didn’t notice any couple around. The new college boys and girls were now around the garden and the men were still sitting on the grass and talking. The waiters were still complaining behind me about their master and “me”???

Oh, I was getting late for my exam.

2 responses to “Half an hour

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