Monday, July 1, 2013

No title (Contd)

21 years and 8 months are not enough for someone to know life inside out. Teenage is the age of committing incessant errors and after that comes the age, where one reflects back to their errors and try to mould their characters, accordingly. Even though when the introspections and circumspections of past are missing in one's life, one develops a character, nevertheless, but it will fail, when judged on the parameters of morality.

On that day it was raining heavily. Everything was gray and dark, including a small coffee shop. The age of that coffee shop must be over 100 years or so it seemed. Even the man sitting behind the counter looked much older than what he may actually was. There were about 4-5 tables in total, which, mostly were unoccupied, except one. The redolent smell of coffee beans, pancakes, which filled the room in abundance, along with the posters of great philosophers, thinkers, and writers of the past on the wall, was acting as an aggregation to the whole anachronism of that place.

On one of the occupied was sitting a young man, which seemed as an aberration, in juxtaposition with the ambiance and flavor of the place. He was wearing a white shirt along with a blazer (on the left pocket of which was a monogram of a university), tight pants, which in my opinion were a little short for him as his legs (without socks) were very much visible. He was wearing a black or may be gray or possibly brown shoes below his trousers (It was very difficult to identify the true colors of his shoes as there was a thick layer of dust and mud on them). From his external appearance or get up he seemed quite bourgeois. But his face and eyes were betraying his external projection of himself, in spite of his clandestine methods(dress-up) to make it obscure, his eyes and face were full of radiance, and were revealing his childlike curiosity to know everything about life.


This young man aged 21 years, was looking out from the glass window of that coffee shop. The rain drops were falling slantwise on the window pane, and then after making a snake wise movement on the glass were falling in a nearby gutter, creating a hallucinating ripple in the muddled water. After a while he got bored with nature's redundant performance on the stage of that glass pane, with characters appearing and then going down the drain creating a ripple in the muddy water. He looked at his coffee which by now was still warm, so he took a sip at it before the warmth getting dissipated into coldness. Taking a deep and heavy breath he sighed. He waived to the 'just about' pretty waitress, and asked for his bill, the waitress giving him a fake, yet a radiant smile, brought his bill in a brown leather case. He opened the leather case and looked at the hand written bill, reached his pocket for his wallet took out crisp notes and left, leaving behind more than a generous tip for the waitress.

The heavy downpour by this time turned into a benign shower, with occasional winds blowing from here and there. Our young man had the habit of walking with his head bent, as much as his neck allowed it, making sure that each step taken, can be witnessed by his eyes. He was very conscientious about small earthen creatures, and avoided stomping over as many creatures as his conscientiousness allowed him to avoid.

Rain brings out the most subtle of human emotion and flavor. That is the reason it had and has been, one of the most favorite subjects for writers of past and of present. It (rain) brings out the true and driving character of a human, which will be evident from the following example.

The most supercilious hide themselves in shade, and can never assimilate the courage of a child to break free and drench themselves in the shower from above. They consider it trivial and banal, where at the same time, the most innocent and ingenuous, prefer to play, drench, and get itself dirty in the same 'rain', and that too with all joy, merry and enthusiasm.

There are other aspects and impacts of 'rain' related to childhood, adolescence, or adulthood. For some, rain brings the reminiscence of their gory past, and is a matter of great depression, while for some it brings joy, for some harmony and peace.

I am not wrong if I relate the effect of rain on a human soul, in accordance to their reaction towards it. The effect of rain on our hero was mixed. Though he was not one of those supercilious lots, so he preferred being drenched. But not with joy and merriment, or for peace or any hope of tranquility. It was freezing to bone, he wanted to suffer, suffer to his bones. But there was a sweet joy coming out of that bone drenching suffering, which was both physical ( Due to extreme cold) and psychological. This young man was dejected and rejected by everyone from human society, and was accepted only in the arcane society of aberrations and anomalies.

He thought of putting his headphones on, and after skimming through his playlist on his I-Pod, selected the album Dark Side Of The Moon, Pink Floyd, and hit the play button on 'Comfortably Numb'. He was possessed by one and only one thought, and that was of her. She was in his literature class. Now I have to describe 'her' first, before I can continue the dire predicament of our hero here.

She was a typical metropolitan girl, who liked to dwell in her outer appearance. Face full of make up, lips glossed with thick layers of lipstick. The type of girls, who don't miss the opportunity of checking themselves in elevator mirrors, car's windshields, after adjusting a few things here and there, and after admiring their own beauty, cannot hide their satisfaction and happiness (Thinking I am still beautiful and young). She was a plump girl of an average height, and was an advocate of 19th century Russian villages' charm and beauty. She had a stoic character behind that makeup that she wore everyday. Which was quite evident from her temple, which never twitched or contorted in any situation. But mostly she dwell-ed with the supercilious lot, and preferred the company of extravagant people.

Our hero was an outcast, and was not able to penetrate the periphery of her circle, with his average look, and bourgeois mannerism. Moreover he was a sissy, a feminist, and a meek creature (with no trace of any male chauvinism). He used to observe her behind his alibi of reading a book. What roused his curiosity in her was her makeup, her mannerism, and the stoic character she possessed, under those layers of external-isms. He wanted to penetrate those layers and wished to see the real human behind that female body. (Contd...)  

There was a food joint which was situated just outside the university where our scholar or hero was studying literature, philosophy, and philology. Which was mostly occupied by students or college professors. There was a vibrancy in that place. Attributed to the fact that the place was mostly occupied by young and energetic people. The food joint 
was not a very grand one, in terms of space, cost and quality of food and beverage served. Laughter, chatter and chaos were incessant part of that place.

1 comment: