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Unbound.

  It is a lazy sunday summer afternoon as I place my bag on the lustrous teak wood table. I let out a mental sigh!  It requires Herculean effort to retrieve my laptop for work. I am a regular at the Longchamp cafe. It is normal for that cafe to play slow jazz while customers enjoy a cup of coffee but somehow the song , “Somewhere only we know”, booms on the speakers and breaks the monotonous commotion inside. In a split second, I transcend back to his arms. The song floods memories that are ready to pour out of my eyes. The barista snaps me out of my misery. He towers over the counter as he motions me to try the newly brewed concoction waiting on my table. I comply to do the needful as I am one of his unbiased coffee connoisseurs. The aroma of simmering hot coffee permeates my nose, calming my nerves.  I gulp down the bittersweet realisation. It has been close to two long months since I’ve last heard from him. It would be wishful thinking that our brief encounter would et...
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Thinking About You




Coming back from college, I always longed for a smoke.
Now, my locality has only one shop which sells possibly everything a person might have pangs for. Pens, batteries, chocolates, toffees and of course cigarettes.
The owner of this shop was a peculiarly familiar 'paanwala'. Grey hair, dirty and faded clothes, front two teeth missing and always busy chewing a paan. I had known him for a year. And he knew exactly what kind of cigarettes I preferred. Initially, he would offer me different kinds of cigarettes but I would stick to my choice. Every time.
Gradually, one day he realized that I was interested in only one brand. That day onwards, whenever he would see me approaching the shop, he would take the cigarette out with great care and pass it on to me with a lopsided grin.
He never had a problem with me. Except for one thing. Apparently, I was too silent for a human being. And he always thought that people who don't talk much are crafty and complicated . He would always tell me that life is too fast and short to be silent. Someday either I would leave this locality or he would go to another shop. And either one of us would at some point in time think about the other. He admired the fact that from the very beginning I had stuck to only one cigarette. Whereas people couldn't stick to each other for long enough.
"Zamana hi kharab hai bhaiyya."
He used to say.
Today, when I went to get a smoke, a different person was sitting at the shop. I lit my cigarette and casually asked about the person who usually sat there.
"Bhaiya woh toh chala gaya gaon. Dukaan abh mera hai."
You were right.
Life is too short and fast to be silent.
And right now,
I am thinking about you.
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