The number of bottles on the table kept increasing.. 2,3,5.. His vision was hazed, yet he volunteered to clean my specs at once!
“I cannot see your eyes, it’s bothering me”, he said.
Is this deja Vu, haven’t I heard this before? Too fogged to recollect I submitted my specs to him with a grin.
He came straight from a 14 hours shift. I came from a month’s sleepless nights! No, actually, I came straight from the doctor’s. We both came here to consume the medicine for the heart!
We talked about nothingness for a while. Then moved on to my concerns about putting on weight, his growing penchant for styling his beard. And then back to naught, nothingness. We decided to leave for Phuchka soon after.
And then he had to say something else too.. ” Stop running away, will you?” Not sure whether this or the uneven road made me stumble at that point. But my hand got hijacked in the process. Firmly entwined in his for like a kilometer! I couldn’t have eaten the phuchka like that, he was considerate enough to give it back at which point.
I discovered a few things about him tonight…
Age has softened him a bit. The frequency of cuss words in his sentences has lessened. When sleep touches his voice, he sounds perhaps like an angel!? I’m fond of looking at him when he’s driving… Oh So serious!
Once again, he made sure I reached home safe.
This is a work of fiction. Don’t post stupid questions if you must ask.