Monday, April 17, 2006

In the café



There isn’t much to say. The voices in the café are distant and incoherent and the music too low. But then the silence is just as annoying to my ears as loud noise can be. Which is why I speak. They are fillers, more like bubbles in the air, which the cartoonist forgot to type words in. But that will do for now.

Her gaze isn’t very reassuring. It is an entreaty and a question. It speaks louder than the bubbles I draw in the air. It makes the sound of a ticking clock waiting to strike the hour. Everytime I look away the clock doesn’t move. It waits for me. And each time I look at it, it starts ticking again.

Even the coffee smells of something else. Somebody has put too much anxiety in it along with sugar. I try to drink it with apathy, but it grips my throat and forces me to consider this and that. I smile at her and pretend that nothing is wrong. And she smiles back at me pretending nothing is wrong.

There isn’t much to say anymore. But there is a little hope. That she will walk out of this café and find herself waiting outside for her. That she will smile back at me through the glass door and perhaps forgive me.

Photo: Vijay at a Starbucks in Palo Alto

6 comments:

x said...

do you have to be forgiven little prince?

A Arora said...

he he..i know this story :)read what i sent u?

Eric said...

Bad vibes, man. Bad vibes...

When I am out in a restaurant or cafe', I usually like to listen to other people's conversations. They're more interesting than anything I can talk about with my folks.

Wriju said...

Chloe:
Yes.. Ummm no.. I don't know ... By the way I love that name :-D

Deeeeepaaaaa:
No one, but I am gonna annoy you now ;-)

Enchated:
They were wow :-)
All 4 of them ... Hologram was awesome..

Eric:
I was never too good at overhearing conversations... Usually I don't notice people!

How do we know said...

"But there is a little hope. That she will walk out of this café and find herself waiting outside for her. " Is Nice.

However, these days, the question is, whether there is a "my self" at all.. or are some bodies nothing but loosely tied up bundles of a lot of different things - with stuff falling out and in with unfailing regularity?

Wriju said...

That is a very dark outlook. There is a myself at the core of my existence. There is a respect for myself. Something that I will not compromise for anything or anybody.

Those somebodies, that you talk about, need to find themselves...