01.06.21
An old man, on a bright, sunny, hot afternoon sitting on his well furnished (one, two, three four bristles are exceptions) teal blue couch. Man reciting his old stories, stories of reality (as he claims) to his whole big family of two. ‘He’ who was sipping his hot elaichi, masala chai, criticizing tortures sun outside, looks exactly like a sunny side up. On the other hand, they, who were having cold, sour lemonade, listening to him coldly, calmly. Ice cold lemonade with hot, sweet, masala chai all in one room. Sourness of lemon emerges with the overpowering elaichi, now the air is sweet & sour (one hot corner one cold). Nose felt the tickling sensation as masala sprinkled on the top of chai, again. Back to those who are listening and the one talking. Talking about sweat and struggles. Real life struggles. “I used to repair some radios and black and white TV sets. It wasn’t a tough job but tough times. But I own a shop, so I considered myself rich. I used to earn a little to save but a lot to live.” He took a sip, sliding the thin creamy layer over his chai to the side, others just playing the ape, sliding the straw to the side and sipping the ice. He continued, “I used to spend thrice a week working 4 days in streak. I never went to people’s houses to repair their items, not because of ego or arrogance, but because” one of them interrupted (laughingly), “He used to be a shy man outside, he used to talk much less as of now.” A shy man, who did not talk enough, got interrupted now disappointed. Looking at not so excited faces, breathing deeply took his cup between two old, wrinkled fingers (index and middle one) stood up and now gazing at the window. Murmured, a little loud to be listened intentionally, “This was my life, full of struggle and hope you’ve enjoyed a shy man’s me time.”
(From a cartoon at libertad Digital)
knocking your door 