Monday, May 22, 2006

Woman in the café

That day I was sitting at my favourite open air café I often go to, to clear my head. I was getting bored at home, the weather was mesmerizing; it was drizzling and then not, perfect for coffee and the air, gentle breeze copulating with the light playful sun made it a perfect day. Among a sandwich, a latte and a book, I looked up to notice her sitting at another table in front of me, alone, staring at her now-empty cup. Despite the dexterity in the writing of Khalid Hussaini, I just couldn’t bring myself back to “The Kite Runner”.

She was dressed casually in a dark blue levis and a while linen shirt, a wallet, a cellphone and some keys with a yellow Volkswagen beetle Kay chain lay forgotten on the table. Her eyes were unfocussed, her back relaxed, hands toying with a single rose from the vase. She had the expression as if she had been waiting for someone, but he hadn’t showed up. She was unaware and unaffected by the many curious glances she was attracting, including mine. Totally absorbed in her thinking, looking slightly to her left, rose in both hands constantly turning and tossing, her hair blew in the wind, troubling her, but she dint care. She seemed lost and totally involved in her actions, her thinking; as if recounting a part of her life that had brought her to this, probably with whom she was waiting for, trying to find a conclusion to it all. Her face was beautiful, with a slight tinge of sadness, as she kept on waiting. She seemed beautiful without makeup, free of the pretentiousness and the corruption of the world. Tiny lines under her eyes made her look tired of the charade that had gone on for too long, like a bus ride with no stops that life sometimes seems. She looked pure, pristine, made me want to go there and hug her and comfort her, tell her its all right and he will come and meet, whoever it is who is was waiting for, as its must be no less than a sin to ditch such a beautiful soul!!

As for her beau, he must have to be really inhuman not to be thankful for the love of such delightful and graceful a woman!

Throughout this she didn't see me see her, and she must have decided to leave since she paid her bill; that’s when her query seemed to arrive-a middle-aged couple, her parents! I was wrong the whole time! She hugged them and suddenly the moods changed, her quiet lips now stretched to a smile as wide as the Boston harbor, and among the affection and the fondness, they sat down to talk and to lunch. Figures out the parents got a little late driving in from out of town.

Its times like these that one remembers, which the woman had nothing to do with, while I felt a part, yet apart from her, and it strangely made me feel elated to witness it give such pure joy to my heart!

Sometimes I look back and wish it was me she was waiting for.

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